


The Mark of the Lash

by TheGreatPotoo



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fantasy, Got a Little Obsessed with my Character in our Campaign, Original Character(s), Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:34:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 96,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatPotoo/pseuds/TheGreatPotoo
Summary: Born from a precarious relationship between a Drow and his prize, Serena Lash attempts to find her place within the world as she struggles to persevere through the hardships life throws at her.A story born from my DnD game that I became a little bit obsessed with. The narrative will follow the events of the campaign as closely as possible, with some events having been tweaked to better fit into a written story.
Comments: 34
Kudos: 17





	1. Moonset

**Author's Note:**

> This work will have somewhat of a weird progression. Because of the way DnD works, there's not always something going on that needs to be written about. Thus, near the start of the story, moments in time will be skipped in favor of getting faster to the sections that have actual bearing on the story. That, and I want to get to the fun parts NOW.  
> This trend will begin to peter out once events begin to pick up towards the middle, although it will still be present in some small regards.

“If that’s your choice, fine. But you get to tell her.”

“Marie –”

“If there is _any_ amount of good in you, you will tell her what we’ve decided.”

Vorn sighed, as he ran a hand through his long, white hair.

He leaned on the desk shoved against the far wall of the office. In the flickering candlelight, the lines across his dark, narrow face aged him beyond his years. His face twisted into a frown, one that betrayed years of hardships, and a silent tolerance towards it all. Absentmindedly, his fingers traveled to his neck, and lingered on the pendant that was fastened to his thin choker. 

Across from him, Marie stood with her arms crossed, her face tight. His wife’s light brown hair had fallen out its cord and into a tangled mess that lay past her shoulders. Her white tunic and brown apron was flecked with blood, and the hem of her dress was torn in spots. Tears slid down her roundish face, over her pale cheeks; she refused to meet Vorn’s gaze.

“I’m sorry.” Vorn said. “I just…can’t think of any other way to keep her safe. If it weren’t for Jurden and Ned…you’d both be dead, and I’d be dragged back to hell in chains. I’ve brought trouble to this home and –”

Marie whipped her head towards Vorn.

“If this is your fault then _you_ should be the one leaving!” she snarled.

Vorn flinched. Marie sucked in a breath, and squeezed her eyes shut.

“If that is what you wish,” Vorn said quietly, “I will not hesitate to leave.”

“No…” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean that, sorry. I just,” Marie ran a hand through her hair. “I just wish…”

Vorn rose and slowly made his way towards the door. At the threshold, he laid a hand on Marie’s shoulder.

“I wish there was another way too.” He whispered. “I truly don’t believe there is one.” 

Marie choked on a sob and nodded. After a moment, Vorn opened the door and stepped into the main room of the inn.

At the center of the Blue Wyrm Inn stood a wall, three feet thick, that extended up into the ceiling. Inside the wall sat bottles of ale and beer of all varieties and prices, each bottle a different color; everyday, sunlight would pour through the windows of the inn and reflect off the bottles, sending shimmering blue lights across the bar, like light off a dragon’s scales. Thick U-shaped bars stood on either side of the wall, both with numerous bar stools upheaved and broken in front them.

Beyond the bar were numerous tables, laid out strategically along the wooden floor. In the aisles between the tables, bodies laid sprawled out on the floorboards. Blood pooled under them, dying the already stained floor a dark red. All the bodies possessed dark leather armor, with various daggers and short swords strapped to them; each had obsidian skin, some dark enough to be blue, with others a faint purple, the same color as Vorn’s.

No two bodies possessed the same wounds. Some had their throats slashed open, others had gashes across their legs – exactly three had their heads caved in, denying the victims any chance of proper identification.

To his far left, splayed against the wall next to the stairs, lay the body of a human man. Split clean in half from navel to neck, he lay in his own lake of blood.

Vorn sighed again. A right mess his wife’s tavern. Stained and destroyed.

A man stood among the corpses. Hands on hips, he surveyed the room with a gaze that had seen worse. Blood stained the front of his leather vest and tunic, though if it were his blood, Vorn could not tell. The light brown hair on top his head lay slick from sweat, and a large gash traveled from the side of his head down to his cheek. The man’s face was stained with blood, yet he did not seem to care. Instead, a faint look of annoyance was etched across his face. 

He stroked his goatee and glanced at Vorn.

“I can have ‘em out of here pretty fast, though where we’re gonna dump ‘em, I don’t know. Maybe I can get Max and the rest of ‘is little troop to help.”

“You okay Jurden?” Vorn asked, as he picked his way over the corpses. His boot left dark prints where blood refused to pool. “That’s a nasty cut you’ve got.”

“Ah, had worse, done worse.” Jurden waved him away. “You and Marie figure out what yer doing with little Serena?”

Vorn shot a hard look at him. “Yes, but that was a private conversation.”

“Oh sure, sure, but when yer yelling as loud as Ludvig to Strom when ‘e blows the wrong fucking thing up, you don’t even ‘ave to try.”

“Didn’t realize we were that loud.”

“Oh sure. Sorry to ‘ear that the missus blames ya for it.”

“She doesn’t,” Vorn said, as he thought back to Marie’s words. “she’s just – scared. About everything.”

“Can’t blame ya. Dunno ‘ow much it’d ‘elp but if I can do _anything_ , ya let me know.”

“Of course. Thank you Jurden, I mean it. Not every day when you can hire you people for free.”

Jurden grinned warmly, exposing sharp teeth.

“Nah, I ain’t working for free. Dunno what yer talking about.”

“Or course,” Vorn said, a faint smile upon his lips. “Do you know where Ned took Serena?”

“”e took ‘er upstairs, to ‘er room. Don’t think she saw any a this mess.” He gestured towards the graveyard around them. “Good thing too, probably screw ‘er up for life. All due respect.”

Vorn nodded and turned on his heel. He made his way towards and up the stairs, barely casting a glance at the mutilated carcass.

Halfway up, hurried footsteps sounded behind him. Vorn turned, a remark on his lips, only to realize that it was his wife behind him.

“She needs both of us. I can’t sit and cry in the office.” She said. Vorn nodded and together they climbed the stairs.

The hallway at the top extended roughly ten feet, with their and Serena’s room at the very end. Halfway down, it opened into another, longer hallway, with multiple doors every odd foot, to house the plethora of patrons that the inn hosted daily.

Vorn wondered how many were oblivious to the carnage downstairs.

They stopped in front of Serena’s door. After some hesitation, Vorn raised his hand to knock, only for Marie to barge into the room. He frowned, and followed her in.

The room was bare, with only an old wooden dresser pressed against the wall nearest to the door, and a desk on the opposite side wall. A small, dark blue carpet covered the floorboards, and in the corner of the room, a small iron heater poured out ample heat.

At the window, facing out onto the dark city landscape, stood an older looking man. His ornate blue and white robes were stained red, with his right hand particularly dripping with blood. Across from him, on a messy bed shoved against the wall, sat Serena.

Vorn and Marie’s daughter was barely twelve years old, and she appeared a smaller version of her mother. She barely came up to Marie’s hip, and wore the same clothes as she did when Marie worked; a brown tunic tucked into a long brown dress, with a stained white apron over it. Blue eyes rubbed raw, she sat curled up on the center of her bed, knees tucked under her chin, her brown, wavy hair strewn about her face.

Her gaze shot to them as Vorn and Marie walked in, and she jumped off the bed.

Vorn smiled. He would never get tired of his daughter’s overly large and pointed ears and her gangling legs. She’d grow into them. Serena would be as beautiful as her mother when she was older.

If only he could watch her grow.

Serena stumbled as she ran to her parents. She wringed her hands, and opened her mouth, flashing the numerous gaps in her teeth before she shut it again. When she was emotional, Serena would forget that she was mute.

A faint feeling of worry filled the back of Vorn’s mind.

He pushed it aside. He knew it was Serena’s worry, but he never did understand how they could feel that as though it were their own.

Marie dropped to her knees, and grabbed Serena in a hug, tight enough to surprise her. Serena wrapped her small arms around her mother and dug her face into her shoulder. Tears stung in the corners of Vorn’s eyes as he walked away from the two, and towards the man at the window.

“You’ve still got blood on you.” Vorn said, as he gestured to the man’s robes and hands. The man’s eyes widened as he glanced down.

“Bahamut’s Teeth, I didn’t notice,” he said, waving his hands slightly, “hopefully Serena wasn’t disturbed by it.” As he spoke, the stained blood slowly shrunk, until both his hands and robes were spotless.

“I think she’s fine Ned. More worried about us than what you look like.” 

“So it seems.” Ned said, as he scratched the side of his long beard.

Not for the first time did Vorn marvel at Ned’s immaculate features, some he’d only seen chiseled on marble statues. He appeared close to sixty, though Vorn knew he was thousands of years older, and possessed a full head of slicked-back black hair, and an equally dark beard. His face displayed no wrinkles or blemishes, save for a faint scar that was etched from his left eye down to his cheek.

“I see you made a decision.” Ned said, pulling Vorn from his thoughts. He turned his head and saw his wife, tears down her face, whispering to Serena. Her eyes were wide, her body still with rapt attention.

Vorn sighed.

“Yes. I was supposed to tell her, but I guess Marie beat me to it.” Vorn turned back to Ned and rubbed the back of his neck. “If your offer is still open…we’d like to have Serena go with you. It’s…much safer that way.”

Ned laid a hand on Vorn’s shoulder. They had known one another for less than three months yet Ned acted as though it were years.

“The offer is always open. I am…honored beyond belief that you trust me with her safety.”

“Well,” Vorn smiled, “you and she are… probably closer than I ever will be with her. I don’t think Serena will be in any danger if she’s with an old dragon like you.”

“She would not, but I most certainly will.” Ned smiled back. “Bron is going to kill me when I bring her home. Well…he’ll try to.” He dropped his hand and bowed his head for a moment before he met Vorn’s gaze again. “You will more than likely not see her again for some time. The Starspires are quite the distance from Mirabar, and it has been getting harder for me to come out all this way. That being said, I swear upon Bahamut’s name that I will ensure she walks down the right path. Serena will grow into a woman that you and Marie will be proud of, you have my word.”

“Thank you, Ned.” Vorn said quietly, his chest tight. “You…don’t know how much that means to us.” Ned nodded, a sad look in his eyes.

Vorn turned to Marie and Serena, and opened his mouth to speak, only for Serena to run from her mother to her bed. She reached atop her pillow, and grabbed a dull blue blanket, only a little larger than a dish towel.

Serena stood for a moment, her back towards Vorn and Ned, and stared at the blanket. Her small body shuddered, and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She turned, stumbled back to Marie, and pressed the worn blanket into her mother’s hands.

A sob tore through Marie.

“Not your woobie Serena,” She said through her sobs, “you need this, I can’t –” Serena shook her head as her own tears fell. She pushed it into her mother’s chest and threw her arms around her. Marie’s sobbing grew louder, and she pulled Serena into another hug. The two clutched each other, both sobbing into one another’s shoulders.

“She’s a good kid.” Ned said quietly.

Vorn turned his head towards the window, jaw tight, and remained silent.

A full moon shone the way down the path that led outside of Mirabar. The five of them had left the Inn and made their way to a small tunnel in the side of the mountain that Mirabar sat on. Hidden by trees and overgrown shrubs, the opening gave way to a vast clearing, one that opened directly to the sky.

Trees around the edge of the clearing swayed in a gentle breeze, and the humming of bugs filled air. Vorn had never heard so many in one place.

He, Jurden, and Ned had prowled about the clearing, until they settled on a spot a few feet from the center. They stood facing each other, as Ned drew a circle into the dirt with the tip of his boot.

Behind them, Marie fussed with Serena, who was bundled tightly in one of Vorn’s cloaks, too large for her. Strapped across her shoulder was a worn-out messenger bag, filled to the brim with clothes, toys, and keepsakes.

“You got it all figured out ‘uh?” Jurden said, gesturing at Ned as he finished the circle. “Pretty good spot to _pop_! in and walk to Mirabar, with none the wiser ‘uh?”

“Yes, and I’d prefer you keep it that way _mercenary_.” Ned snarled.

Jurden smiled.

“I’m feeling a little ‘ostility coming from you Mr. Ned. All the way from the ole inn too. Don’t like my job? Can’t see why.”

“I don’t trust those who can be bought. Your kind has wronged my people for far too long.”

“Oh, so yer gonna take out years of pent up frustrations with me, ‘uh?”

“Vhaeraun’s Mask!” Vorn yelled. “Since the damned Inn you’ve been bickering! You’ll never see one another again after this.”

Ned looked away, embarrassment etched across his face. Jurden’s grin remained.

“You’re lucky to even be here Jurden,” Vorn continued, “Ned didn’t want you coming at all.”

“O, of course not.” Jurden said. “I just wanted to see ‘ow old Ned ‘ere gets in and out of town. Professional curiosity.”

Ned glared at Jurden. Vorn blew out a puff of air.

“Sorry to disappoint you Jurden, but you’ll won’t learn much. Ned hasn’t even told me how he does it.” He glanced at Ned, a small smile on his lips.

“Call it trade secrets. I’m sure you both have some.” Ned replied. Jurden laughed.

“Nah, can’t say I do!” 

“Of course not.” Ned looked at Vorn. “Vorn…this’ll take me a moment. I can…take longer if you need me to.”

Vorn nodded. He stood still for a moment, before he turned and walked slowly towards his wife and daughter.

Marie kneeled in front Serena, and anxiously adjusted the strap across Serena’s chest. Satisfied, she stood up, pulled a cord out her pocket, and turned Serena around so that she faced Vorn; she began tying Serena’s hair into a low ponytail, in the same style as her own. 

“You remember what I said,” Marie began, “be good for Ned and Bron. Ned is doing a lot for us, even if he says he doesn’t mind, so be polite please. Show good manners, don’t eat all his food – pretend as if all the rules here apply over there, okay?” Finished with Serena’s hair, she placed her hands on her shoulders.

Marie smiled at Vorn, though her eyes remained glassy.

Serena stared at him, her eyes half shut, irritated from crying. She clutched the strap tight, as though she was afraid to let go.

Vorn’s chest tightened as he kneeled to her level. Serena’s eyes flicked about him, her grip tightening around the strap. 

His choker felt warm against his throat.

“I’m…not going to lie to you Serena. I’ve failed you as your father.” Vorn said. Serena’s eyes grew wide, a look of confusion across her face. “I know you don’t believe me, and…I appreciate that. But I have done nothing to earn your respect. How many years have I been absent? And barely six months after…after I show up, you and your mother are almost killed by my pursuers. I’ve called danger upon you more times than I can count, and I can never forgive myself for that.” Serena eyes grew glassy, and she broke his gaze. “I know this is…a lot to take in but it’s the truth. You’ll be safer with Ned, I trust him with my life and well…you two seem to have a better relationship than I do. Maybe he can…” Vorn trailed off. Serena’s tiny frame shuddered silently.

Vorn looked up at his wife; she squeezed Serena’s shoulders but remained silent, a sad look painted across her face. 

His throat grew hot.

He had no experience being a father. Vorn had no right to be a father. And yet he sat and tried to reason with his only child why she needed to leave. He spoke to her like he would anyone else, believing she would understand once she saw reason.

What a fool he was. 

Vorn Lash stared at his daughter and cursed himself that nothing sprung to mind that he could use to calm Serena down. To tell her that everything would be okay. To reassure her that he still loved her, despite everything. That she’d grow up into a woman he’d be proud of.

He stiffened; the moon pendant against his throat burned, as though to melt through his skin. Confused, he brushed his fingers against it.

And paused.

He reached behind his neck and unclasped the choker. The pain about his throat vanished.

With slow, gentle hands, Vorn reached over and tied it snug around his daughter’s throat. Serena looked up at him, then looked downwards at his hands.

“Every…every member of our house – _your_ house, wore these pendants,” Vorn said, as he adjusted the choker. “to show to those around us who we are. Eight arrows for every road in life, and the moon in front, where those roads will always lead. A Lash is coiled, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. They’re strong, powerful enough to subdue any in their way. But…above all else, a Lash is brave, able to face the challenges of life without flinching. You need to be brave Serena, braver than me, your mother, and every Lash that came before you.”

He placed a hand over Serena’s heart.

“Be my brave girl for me. Face life without flinching. So that someday soon, we can see each other again. Can…” Vorn sucked in a shuddering breath and smiled. “can you promise me that?”

Serena stared at him. She brushed careful fingers over the moon that lay against her throat.

She nodded, then burst into tears. She crashed into Vorn and threw her arms around his neck. Stunned, he pulled her tight against him, and held her as she sobbed silently into his chest.

“We’ll be here when you get back. We’re not going anywhere, I promise.” He kissed the top of her head, and let his own tears finally fall. Marie covered her mouth and turned away, eyes shut, her own tears rolling down her face.

Vorn Lash held his daughter until she could cry no more. A bright light flashed behind him, and he knew it was time.

Gently, he pushed Serena away. Her face was red, her hair a mess. Despite his tears, Vorn smirked at her. “Made a mess of your hair again, never could figure it out, huh?” Serena smiled weakly.

Vorn stood up, took Serena’s small hand into his own. They turned back to towards Ned.

Jurden stood some paces in front of Ned, his eyes narrowed, and watched as Ned waved his hands in small, intricate movements. A glowing purple circle, emanating from the dirt, burned into existence around the elegant looking man.

Marie went to Serena’s other side and took her hand. Serena looked from her mother, and to her father, before she sucked in a shuddering breath. She marched forward and lead her parents to the circle with a determined march.

She stopped at the circle’s edge and turned her head towards Jurden. He smiled and ruffled her hair, giving her the appearance of having just woken up. 

“’ay, learn some magic and blow shit up for me. I’ll make sure Strom does the same for ya.” Serena nodded seriously, before she turned back to the circle.

Before either of them could react, Serena let go of her parents’ hands, stepped forwards and next to Ned. She grabbed the side of his robe and nodded to him. He nodded back, before he addressed Vorn and Marie. 

“I’ll keep her safe,” Ned said, his eyes glistened in the moonlight, “you have my word.”

He flourished his hands outward. The circle brightened in color, and a hum filled Vorn’s ears.

Serena, tears still in her eyes, waved at her parents.

And was gone.

Vorn, Marie, and Jurden stared at the circle burned into the grass, smoke twirling from tiny purple fires. Jurden jumped forward and stamped them out with a quick foot.

He turned back, a comment upon his lips. It died in his throat. 

Vorn clung to Marie and sobbed into her shoulder. Marie ran a hand through his hair, and despite her own sobs, pulled him close.

Jurden, embarrassed for the first time in his life, turned away. He looked up at the sky, his own eyes beginning to sting. 

A solitary cloud rolled in front of the moon and plunged the clearing into darkness.


	2. A Change of Plans

The grass fields outside of Scornubel extended along the Trade Way, further than one could see. Numerous hills filled the plains, rolling like green sea waves, when the wind blew just right. The sight would take anyone’s breath away, as they stood on the dirt road and stared out across the plains.

Expert for Werond.

It wasn’t that she didn’t care for the Emerald Sea, as some chose to call it. Werond took every chance she could to gaze out upon the hills, her chest filling with a sense of wonder. The hills, the vast stretches of grass, all of it mesmerized her, much more than any sight in her home city.

By now, the fields ceased to steal Werond’s breath; instead, they instilled a calmness within her. She yearned for the simplicity of the smaller towns, to wake up to the gentle sound of birds…and not the shouts and screams of a normal Waterdeep workday.

An impossible dream.

Werond leaned against the side of her employer’s wagon as she gazed out upon the fields. Like every wagon in the caravan, it stood tall and wide, with thick canvas drawn over the top to shield the occupants from the weather. Much to her chagrin, her wagon wasn’t for personal use; her employer, a fat, stupid man, had Werond and another teamster drive a wagon full of every kind of pottery. Shelves had been built inside the wagon and solid, multicolor, shiny, and other ugly pots were strapped to them. They took up the entirety of the wagon, forcing Werond to either sleep in the driver’s seat, or on the ground.

“I’m paying for the pots to arrive in Waterdeep in one piece,” the man had said, back when he’d hired Werond in Baldur’s Gate. “and I need _all_ the space in the wagons. Why should I lose money for your comfort?”

“Hell’s take him.” Werond mumbled under her breath. A shout came from the other side of the wagon.

“You say something?” the other teamster yelled.

“No.” Werond yelled back. “Just thinking out loud. How are the horses?”

“Front left seems kind of spooked by something.” The man yelled back. “You ought to take care of it ‘fore we head out. Guard’s won’t be happy if we don’t start moving soon.” The teamster climbed back into the driver’s seat, the wagon rocking as he did.

“Oh sure, because you can’t do it.” Werond mumbled.

Each wagon was pulled by a team of four draft horses, and Werond found to prefer their company over her team, and everyone else in the caravan. Having spent much of her time with the horses, Werond was able to calm them down when no one else could, a feat that only earned her more work. She supposed it was fine; it did make her quite valuable to have.

Werond shoved off the wagon, stretched her legs, and walked the long way around. The entire caravan had halted off the side of the Trade Way, having slept for the night. Now, they waited for the guards, only seven, to ride up and down the wagon train, rousing the merchants and travelers from their slumber. While time was of no concern, she knew that the guard captain liked to cover as much ground as possible each day.

Panicky horses would serve only to irritate him.

As she came to the other side, Werond glanced both ways down the dirt road, a habit from crossing busy streets in Waterdeep. The caravan was long, longer than most, at fifteen wagons. Her wagon sat in the dead middle, which gave her some semblance of safety; if anything decided to attack the caravan, she would have ample time to react.

One of the horses, a large brown, was spooked by something unseen. He wiped his head about, the whites of his eyes showing; the other horses had begun to panic by the time Werond reached him. She laid a gentle hand on its neck, stroking it slowly, and whispered quiet reassurances to the animal.

The horse calmed a moment later.

“You really got a way with them beasts.” The other teamster said from the front of the wagon. He sat high up, above the horses, on a bench that was built to the front, with room for two.

“Guess so.” Werond replied, as she scratched the horse’s neck. “Easier to work with than people.”

The horse closed its eyes, a look of bliss across its face. Werond began scratching with both hands and smiled at the horse’s pleasure.

Near the back of the caravan came the sound of hoofs kicking up dirt; Werond knew it was a riding horse, as the hoofbeats sounded lighter than a draft horse. She turned and watched as the captain of their tiny guard rode up and halted next to her wagon.

The sun glinted from the man’s polished half plate and closed bucket helmet, forcing Werond to squint at him.

“I hate to presume,” the captain started, “but would you be Werond?”

“Yes sir, is there –” Werond began to ask. The captain raised a gloved hand.

“Please, no titles here. I like to think we’re all on first name basis.”

“Of course, Mr…ah…”

The captain laughed.

“Well I suppose it would help if you actually knew my name, huh?” He removed his helmet and shook out flowing locks of pale gold hair and droplets of sweat. His smile reached all the way to his eyes. “I’m Pavel Smith, captain of the little guard we’ve got here. But I think you already knew that.”

“Of course. And I’m Werond,” she said, bowing slightly. “but I think you already knew that.”

“A pleasure Werond. A friend of mine, near the back,” Pavel said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, “is having trouble with her horses. Something spooked one of them and well, she can’t really calm them down. They can’t hear her.”

“They can’t…hear her?” Werond asked, brows furrowing.

“As I said, they can’t hear her. I haven’t the slightest clue how to calm animals down and well,” Pavel swept a muscular arm across the caravan. “out of everyone here, I’ve noticed you’ve had the most success with them. Think you can help her?”

Werond groaned internally. Damn her knack.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” She said. “but aren’t we moving out soon?”

“Not until this problem gets fixed.”

“Oh. Lead the way then.”

Pavel nodded, and shoved his helmet back on. He gestured at Werond and urged his horse around, before it began walking towards the way he came. Werond waved at the other teamster and fell into step beside the horse.

As they walked down the row of wagons, Werond couldn’t help but steal quick glances over at them; she never had a chance to look at the wagons behind her, as she had no reason to go behind her own.

The wagon directly behind her had only one driver and owner, a man she knew as Lasfelro. He waved at the pair as they walked by, a smile was upon his lips. He never spoke a word to anyone but denied that he was a mute. Werond supposed she had met stranger people.

Behind Lasfelro was Keenblade and his entourage. Larion Keenblade, a name Werond had heard well before she’d join the caravan, had enough coin to own three separate wagons, each one holding different tools of his trade. He was a blacksmith whose services were requested from every corner of Baldur’s Gate, and if the rumor mill could be believed, Larion had received an even larger offer from someone of importance in Waterdeep. An offer large enough to warrant him uprooting his entire business, and shipping it all to the city, some two thousand miles away.

Werond saw no sign of Larion however, as she and Pavel walked past. His armored guards sat at the front of each wagon, looking rather bored.

She walked by disappointed; Werond hadn’t seen Larion yet, as kept to himself during the gatherings at night. But those who had talked with him said he was rather charming, something Werond wanted to confirm herself.

“Have you ever seen a giant bird before?” Pavel almost yelled through his helmet, causing Werond to jump.

“Do you mean eagles?” she asked.

“No, he’s more like a hawk. Well, he’s colored like one I suppose.”

“He?”

“Yes, his name is Cruck’aa, and he’s a new friend of mine. We might see him in a –” Pavel pointed behind the last Keenblade wagon. “Yes, there he is now.”

An Aarakocra, as tall as Werond, stepped out from behind the next wagon. He was indeed hawkish, with plumage that was a mix of brown with white undertones, which paired together with his dark green robes.

He stared intently at his hands – or talons – which were cupped close to his chest. Light reflected from them, and Werond realized he was holding a small amount of water, with a tiny bird perched on his talons.

“Hello Cruck’aa!” Pavel hailed. “Cleaning another bird?”

Cruck’aa slowly turned his narrow face towards Pavel.

Werond shivered.

“Yes Pavel,” he said, his voice flat, “else they get dirty, sitting in those cages.” 

“Of course, of course. Have you met Werond?” Pavel gestured at her. Cruck’aa’s beady eyes flicked to her, and back to Pavel. “I’m having her help Serena with the horses. I’d ask you but you’re always busy with the birds.”

“You’d be right.” Cruck’aa said. He turned back to his wagon and climbed in.

Pavel waved goodbye, despite Cruck’aa’s sudden departure.

“He seems…nice.” Werond said.

“In his own way.” Pavel shrugged, and spurred his horse on. “Serena’s cart is right behind Cruck’aa’s – right there.” Pavel pointed some paces in front, to the next wagon in line.

One of the four horses was indeed spooked – by what, Werond didn’t know. Perhaps by whatever had spooked her horse, just moments ago. 

She slowly approached and kept her hands in view.

The horse stamped its front legs, nostrils flared, the whites of its eyes showing, but allowed Werond to come close.

She placed a gentle hand on the underside of its neck, and slowly stroked the horse’s mane; Werond murmured to the animal, cooing softly.

The horse ceased its stamping, a single eye fixated on her.

With each stroke, the tension within the horse’s face eased, until the animal finally calmed from her words.

She smiled and continued to stroke the animal’s neck. The horse closed it eyes, just as hers did.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Pavel said from behind her, “how’d you do that? Mine barely listens to me.”

“You need to be gentle with them.” Werond replied. “If you’re calm, then they’re calm…I think. So far that hasn’t failed.”

“Huh! Never would have thought of that. Serena!” Pavel yelled, starling Werond. “Your horse is good, Werond fixed it!”

Werond turned to Pavel, a remark on her lips, when a shower of sparks flew up from the back of the wagon.

She stepped back, eyes wide. “The hell was that?” Werond asked.

Pavel waved a hand. “That means she heard me.”

“What? Is she mute?”

“Well yes…but actually no. Here, you can ask her yourself.” Pavel pointed towards the back, just as the owner of the wagon stepped into view. 

She was young, younger than Werond, and perhaps the youngest among the wagon owners. Her white collared tunic was tucked into a long travel skirt and her brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail that lay against her chest. Werond’s eyes caught on the choker that wrapped around the girl’s throat; an odd-looking pendant was strapped to the front, comprised of a moon in front a circle of arrows.

The girl pointed a finger at the horses, her brows furrowed.

“Yup, horse is all good now.” Pavel said, waving her over. “Have you met Werond by the way?”

The girl brightened upon seeing Werond, and began making her way over to them, a spring in her boot. Two tanned points jutted from amidst the girl’s hair and Werond realized she was an elf. Although the girl’s face seemed somewhat more rounded than a full-blooded elf.

“Serena, this is Werond,” Pavel said through his helmet, as Serena halted before them. “Werond, this is the woman whom the horses couldn’t hear, Serena.”

Serena smiled, her blue eyes crinkling.

It had been sometime since Werond had seen anyone smile that genuinely.

Serena’s lips formed a silent ‘oh’; she grabbed the sides of her skirt, and curtsied towards Werond, head bowed. Werond’s heart leaped into her throat, and she waved a hand.

“O-oh, no need for that! Pavel said you needed help and I wasn’t busy so…”

The girl nodded and raise her hands up to her chest; her fingernails were painted black, freshly painted; Werond squinted at them, before Serena’s hands twisted into a flurry of motion. 

“ _Sorry for being formal but I really appreciate the help_!” a silvery voice rang out in Werond’s head, causing her to jump. It was a pleasant voice, an inviting voice, but it was not her voice. “ _Sometimes it’s hard for animals to hear me, and the horse was scaring me, so I didn’t know what to do.”_

Werond stared at Serena with wide eyes and glanced at Pavel. He scratched the side of chin and said, “She’s a sorcerer.” as if it was a valid answer.

Serena blinked; her tanned cheeks became flushed, and she launched into a flurry of signs.

“ _Oh, sorry_!” Her voice rang out; her hands blurred but Werond still heard Serena’s voice. “ _I completely forgot! I’m mute. I can’t make a single sound from my mouth! I talk with my hands instead_.”

“H-how?!” Werond asked, eyes wide. 

“ _That’s a long story. I guess it’s like telepathy, maybe? I –”_

A shrill whistle sounded from the front of the wagon train.

On cue, the travelers and teamsters still loitering around the road began climbing back into their wagons.

“Oh, guess I waited too long. Well, they’ll need me at the front.” Pavel said, as he tugged on the reins, urging his horse around. “Thanks for the help Werond, see you around Serena!” He raced off towards the front wagons as they slowly began to creep forward. Werond watched him, then turned back to Serena.

“Uh, I need to go back, but I’m glad your horse –”

“ _Wait!_ ” Serena signed, panic in her eyes. The center wagons had begun to move. “ _I need a teamster, and the horses can’t hear me. Can I hire you? Please?”_

“I’m already on with –”

“ _What did they pay you, standard fair?”_

“Uh, yeah.”

_“I’ll buy you out your contract. How’s fifteen gold now, and fifteen at Waterdeep?”_

Werond blinked.

The wagon in front had begun to move, and they were up next.

Without a word, she walked past Serena, and hopped into the teamster’s seat.

Serena beamed, and pulled herself up next to Werond.

_“Thank you!”_ Serena signed, as their wagon began to move. “ _Honestly, I didn’t know what else to do if you said no.”_

Werond grinned.

“You’d be left out to dry, huh boss?” Serena’s hands twitched, and a melodious laugh echoed through Werond’s head.

She blinked rapidly; Serena’s voice wasn’t unpleasant – if anything it seemed to pull Werond in. But having a different voice inside her head felt unnatural.

Serena caught Werond’s discomfort and grimaced.

“ _I know, sorry, it’s really weird. Everyone gets used to it after a while though, but I’m sorry if it makes you comfortable. That’s…kind of a habit of mine.”_

Werond shook her head, as she pulled on the reins. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m just not used to it. You’re not even close to some of the worst employers I’ve had.”

“ _Really?”_ Serena asked, as their wagon jerked forward. “ _Even the wagon you were just on.”_

“Yup. I’d rather work under someone as cute as you than that fat old man up there.”

Serena blinked.

Werond’s body warmed uncomfortably, as she realized what she had said.

“S-sorry,” she stammered, “unprofessional language boss, didn’t mean anything by it.”

“ _I don’t mind.”_ Serena signed. “ _Honestly, it was just a slip.”_ She paused, her face becoming flushed again, be she signed, “ _Uh, anyways, I’ll be in the back. The last man that owned the cart left a bunch of ruined silk that I’m trying to salvage…uh, let me know if you need me, okay?”_

Werond nodded and turned her head towards the road as Serena climbed over the bench and into the back.

The moment her new employer was gone, Werond looked towards the sky and cursed herself.


	3. Small Introduction

The sun had just begun to sink under the horizon as Serena jumped from the wagon and stretched her legs. They had made good progress through the Trade Way that day, having covered what Werond had estimated to be a little over one hundred miles. She assumed they were still on time, although she wasn’t sure.

Werond jumped down a moment after and wobbled on her feet. Her dark skin was flushed, and her hair looked as though it hadn’t been washed in days. 

Serena cringed. Today’s trip had been rough on the teamsters; the road had degraded substantially, with bumps and holes easy enough for horses to traverse, but large enough to damage the wagons. Every teamster was forced to pay extra attention least their wagons ruin their frames.

Werond had it worse; ten minutes into the journey, her old employer, a fat man whose name Serena did not know, had ridden up and berated Werond for jumping wagon. Werond had laid into him in return, using language that fitted more for a back-alley thug than a teamster. Serena had hidden in the back, unwilling to jump into something she wasn’t a part of. Until the man insisted that Werond’s unreliableness was borne from being “darker than a Drow”.

Serena had _many_ things to say then.

“How you feeling boss?” Werond asked; her voice was husky, as though she hadn’t slept in days. The front of her tunic was soaked in sweat, and it clung to her slim frame.

“ _I’m alright,”_ Serena signed, “ _but I just sat in the back the entire time. How’re you holding up?”_

“Oh I’m fan _tastic_. Could sleep for a year probably.”

“ _Well, I laid out some of that fabric back there that wasn’t eaten away.”_ Werond shot her a questioning look. “ _Oh, the last owner bought a lot of silk, but it was all moth eaten. He just…left it. So I’ve been trying to sort out the good sections from the bad. And I made two spots for us to sleep in, so no more sleeping under a tree!”_

Werond laughed. “Thanks boss, that’ll feel like heaven.” She began pulling her dark, filthy hair into a ponytail; she jerked her head towards the front of the caravan. “You want to eat? I’m starving.”

Serena nodded, and fell in next to Werond.

Every night a wagon near the front of the caravan would throw down a giant cooking pot, and slap together something to eat for the entire train. Some wagon owners had their own provisions, but many others relied on the charity of the food wagon for each of their meals.

Serena couldn’t blame them. Whoever made the food each night was certainly not being paid enough.

“Hey, Serena,” Werond said, halfway to the food wagon. “I uh…I didn’t get a chance to thank you earlier. For, um…speaking up for me. I was going to but – well I was just angry –”

“ _It’s fine! You seemed like you wanted to be left alone, so I didn’t say anything.”_

“Well, thank you. I appreciate you saying something. Not many people would.”

“ _Of course! I can’t stand it when idiots just…spout nonsense like that. Especially about Drow. They’re not all that bad.”_

Werond frowned and glanced at Serena.

“Most of them are though. I haven’t met a Drow that wasn’t rude and arrogant.”

“ _Well, you know me, and I’m not all that bad.”_

“What?”

“ _I’m half Drow, on my dad’s side.”_

“You’re half Drow?!” Werond asked, then sputtered, “s-sorry, I didn’t mean to – I don’t actually care what – fuck, I mean –”

Serena laughed and waved a hand. “ _You’re fine, you can’t tell anyways. Took after my mom_ way _too much.”_

“That – that makes sense!” Werond said, blood rushing to her face.

“ _Well, now that you know that, I get to ask where you’re from. Because aside from the actual Drow on the caravan, you’re the only one here that’s different looking.”_ Serena’s hand hung in the air, and she squinted at Werond’s arm. “ _It looks almost like bronze.”_

Werond smirked.

“I don’t actually know; I was born in Waterdeep, but my parents died before I had a chance to ask them.”

Serena’s ears turned a bright red, and she looked away.

Werond’s smirk grew. She leaned towards Serena and said, “That makes us even, huh boss?”

Serena simply nodded.

The soup that night was a favorite of Serena’s; vegetable and deer meat that came from the woods on either side of the road. They stood quietly in the line that snaked around the food wagon. Werond’s eyes refused to stay open for more than a minute, forcing Serena to poke her whenever they needed to move forward. By the time they received their soup, Werond threatened to fall over on the next poke.

“ _You – okay?”_ Serena signed with her free hand, as they exited the line.

Werond blinked rapidly and shook her head like a dog shaking out water. Serena grinned.

“ _Lets – find – Pavel – sit – with.”_

“Lead the way, boss.” Werond almost slurred, falling in behind her.

Serena turned and wove her way through the remaining teamsters and travelers, as she picked her way towards the back of the caravan. By the time she and Werond arrived, the normal seating arrangements were already laid out to the side of Cruck’aa’s wagon.

“Bo, please,” Pavel said from his seat; crates had been laid out in an upside-down U, with Pavel sitting at the head like a father at dinner. “You bought out his entire stock of beer, surly you can spare _some._ ”

“No! I bought it all for me, why would I sell that which I need the most?!” Bo shouted, his gut wobbling. He sat to Pavel’s right, bowl in one hand, alcohol bottle in another, and alternated sipping between them. Bo spilled soup onto his beard, giving it the same greasy appearance as his long hair.

To the left of Pavel, Cruck’aa twisted his beak into a grimace.

“No one needs that much Bo. It’s not good for you.” He said.

“ _I_ will decide what is good for me, those around me can hold their opinions to themselves!” He threw back his head and downed the rest of the bottle before pulling another out from behind the crate.

“Uh…” Werond mumbled as they approached. Pavel glanced at Serena and Werond and perked up.

“Come, come, plenty of room! We were just discussing why Bo is being needlessly stingy with his booze.”

“ _Nothing – new.”_ Serena signed, taking a seat next to the drunk man. Werond sat on the box next to her, eyeing Bo as he laughed.

“See Pavel, she understands! I’ll never change! So why bother?”

“Because everyone else is getting angry with you?”

“Well, as I have always said…fuck ‘em!” Bo threw his head back and laughed as though the joke would’ve put the gods in stitches. 

“Very uh…interesting company you keep.” Werond slowly said, as she glanced up from her soup bowl.

“ _Keeps it entertaining.”_ Serena signed, balancing her bowl in her lap. “ _We all met in Baldur’s Gate to hop on as guards, and we all kind of stuck to each other, for better or worse. But we all like each other, right Cruck’aa?”_

Cruck’aa narrowed a beady eye at Serena.

“ _Most of us like each other.”_ Serena said.

“Ah Serena!” Bo suddenly yelled. “Ya haven’t introduced your friend here! I don’t believe any of us have met her!”

“ _Oh sorry Bo, you’re the only one.”_ Serena gestured at Werond as though she was displaying a prized animal at the market. “ _This is my new teamster, Werond. She is much better than I could ever be with animals, and without her, I would still be stuck.”_

Werond grinned and rolled her eyes.

“You’re really bad at flattering, boss.”

“ _You didn’t like that?!”_

“Nah, animal lady got a point!” Bo exclaimed. “Ya didn’t even tell us where she’s from or what she does when she isn’t a teamster!”

Serena shrugged. She hadn’t considered asking. Not many people on the caravan gave out that kind of information.

“I’m from Waterdeep Bo,” Werond said, eyes half closed. “and I rent out horses for caravan trips. Have a place in Baldur’s Gate and in Waterdeep. Sometimes I get paid to tag along.”

Cruck’aa whipped his head towards Werond.

“Those horses on your old wagon, they yours?”

Werond blinked.

“No, they’re not. I was just hired as a teamster. The caravan already had the horses supplied.”

Cruck’aa narrowed his eyes but turned back towards his soup. Serena frowned, and watched as he mumbled angrily.

She hadn’t a clue why Cruck’aa jumped at Werond like that. Was he that distrusting of someone new already?

“Speaking of which!” Bo yelled, before turning towards Pavel. “How much longer till we hit the big city, o Captain of the Guard!?”

“That’s not my title Bo.” Pavel said, a look of confusion across his face. “And by the map estimates, it’ll be a good couple of weeks still. We are making good pace though.”

“Fan –” Bo belched loudly and Serena cringed as her ears popped. “tastic Pavel! Glad to fucking hear it. Imma need more booze by the time we get there!” 

“You’re not planning to drink that entire wagon are –”

“Of course I am! I ain’t sharing _shit_!”

“Bo, for nicolas cage’s sake –”

“Hey boss,” Werond said quietly, as Pavel and Bo began their old argument. “I don’t mean to be rude but I’m calling it. Barely able to follow what…those two are saying.”

Serena nodded; she took Werond’s now empty bowl and set it inside her own.

“ _Sure, sure, of course. Hopefully all that fabric will be comfortable.”_

“I’m sure it will. Just hate having to sleep like this,” Werond gestured at herself. “sweated all day long. Might ruin the…already ruined silk.”

Serena smirked and waved a hand at Werond, fingers twisting at odd angles.

With a small sucking noise, the sweat and grime disappeared from Werond’s body.

She blinked, stared at her arms, before running a hand through her now clean hair.

“How did you –” she sputtered.

“ _First thing I was taught. It’s pretty minor but it’s the magic I use the most. Hope that helps you sleep a little bit better.”_

“Oh it will!” Werond rubbed her face, eyes wide. “Thanks boss! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“ _Of course! Goodnight Werond.”_

Serena waved as Werond walked off, still stroking her face. She watched until Werond, still stumbling, reached their wagon and climbed in.

As Serena turned back towards the group, she noticed that Cruck’aa was staring at her, his beak twisting into another frown.

“We’re not here to make friends Serena,” he said, crossing his arms. “We have people counting on us, there isn’t time for…whatever that was.”

Serena narrowed her eyes.

_“So I can’t be friendly? We have one job and I’m not allowed to be normal?”_

“Don’t get distracted.”

_“I’m not. Maybe keep your beak out of my business huh?”_

Cruck’aa shook his head. He jumped up, soup bowl in hand, and stalked off towards the food wagon. Pavel watched him leave, before glancing at Serena.

“It would be wise if we didn’t irritate one another.”

Serena’s jaw clenched. She didn’t understand why Cruck’aa would make a comment like that. Nor did she understand why he jumped down Werond’s throat earlier. She remembered what she was hired for, and Serena didn’t need a socially awkward bird to remind her.

She raised her hands to say as much, only for Bo so smack Pavel’s bowl from his hands, sending his soup flying.

“Oi, lay off her _captain!_ ” Bo bellowed. “She’s havin a bit of fun! Who’s any of us to berate her!” Pavel’s shoulders slumped as he stared at the upside-down bowl on the grass. Bo whipped his head towards Serena; she cringed from the booze on his breath. “You do whatever the hell you want girl and talk to me if those two give ya any shit for it!”

“ _Thank you, Bo. But I don’t think knocking Pavel’s soup was the right thing to do there.”_

“I wasn’t done with that.” Pavel mumbled, staring mournfully at the spilled food.

“Ah, who gives a damn!” Bo exclaimed, before shoving himself onto his feet. “Now, I’m off to finish off tonight’s jug! Don’t wait up!”

He wobbled away towards the front of the caravan and launched into a loud song about a barmaid who had no sense of modesty.

Serena stood up and grabbed the spilled bowl. She couldn’t help but laugh at the dejection that filled Pavel’s eyes.

“ _Want – me – get – more?”_ she signed.

Pavel looked at her like a lost puppy.

“ _I’ll – be – back.”_


	4. Boredom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the first spot in which time starts skipping, and for good reason; during the original game, long stretches of time passed on the caravan where nothing happened, so there really isn't a point to write a bunch of scenes where people are constantly talking about the weather and life (although if this was actually a book, I would insert more scenes like that). I'll try to make it fairly obvious how much time has passed between each chapter if there is a skip, but overall, try not to sweat it!

Cruck’aa’s wagon rounded the corner and disappeared behind the trees. Werond stretched up in her seat, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the road ahead. She shifted about impatiently until their wagon finally rounded the corner.

Werond groaned.

The forest the caravan had traveled through opened to another vast stretch of grassland. And against her hopes, the Trade Way extended straight ahead, with no turns or bumps that she could see. Emerald grass lay for miles, with no hint of civilization among the soft hills that rolled across the plains.

For the next hundred miles, Werond had no need to keep her hands on the reins; so long as the lead wagon kept moving, and no one else broke down, all the wagons would continue forward, stopping only to rest each night. Which meant that Werond had nothing to do for much longer than she anticipated.

She sank down in the wooden bench, leaned her head back, and cursed at the cloudless sky. While she enjoyed doing nothing while she worked, it made the hours come to a halt. What was she to do until…something happened? Werond couldn’t even leave the wagon, though she had no desire to do so. She had nothing to keep her attention, save staring out across those green fields that she loved dearly – if she had not done that the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that…

“I think I miss the politics back home.” She grumbled to herself. At least her boss had something to do, even if it was mindlessly sorting through fabric.

Werond shifted upright, fixing her posture. Her new boss – if the relationship was still new – was the oddest person Werond had worked under. Only a week had past, and the two had become friendly with one another, something that never happened with Werond’s previous superiors. Werond preferred to keep that superior-subordinate relationship, if only loosely, but Serena had insistently expressed that they were friends, not coworkers, and should refer to each other as such. Despite that, Werond still called her “boss” whenever she could, if only to laugh at the annoyed face Serena made. 

And during that week of sharing a wagon, Werond had concluded that Serena, while grown, was still childish at heart. She held a basic view of the world around her, still seeing everything in shades of black and white, and not the greys that Werond was accustomed too. This coupled with the bottomless well of energy Serena possessed, as she constantly hopped from one place to the next. She never sat still at dinner, always running off to talk to – or at – the other wagon owners, should they happen to walk by. Most did not mind and were more than happy to exchange greetings with her; those that did were quick to make their reservations known, and Serena never bothered them again.

Serena’s chattiness – if it could be called that – helped her win over many people, and her presence was welcomed by many campfires at night. However, it wasn’t just her outgoing nature that won people over; perhaps the most innocent aspect of her boss, Serena made it her mission, every day, to help at least one person. As soon as the caravan began to move, Serena would hop off their wagon and roam about, asking every teamster and wagon owner if there was any work they needed assistance with. Somedays, Serena came back with a frown, but other days, Werond wouldn’t see her again until after dinner, sweaty and tired, but with a bright smile etched across her face.

Werond was shocked when she found out Serena did it all for free. Serena had simply shrugged and told her, “ _It’s the right thing to do, why would I charge people?”_ It all seemed asinine to her, but Werond couldn’t get that across to her boss.

She scratched her neck and glanced at the covered part of the wagon.

In a way, Werond respected Serena for everything she did. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d met anyone with that much empathy, especially in her line of work. It was a welcome change of pace, compared to her previous superior.

The cloth curtain flung open behind Werond; Serena stepped over the bench and plopped down next to her. Her tunic, normally clean, was untucked from her skirt, and dotted with sweat.

“Hot back there?” Werond asked. Serena nodded, and flicked her hand; the sweat on her forehead disappeared.

“ _I put some of the silk in the back and cut off the air flow. Almost overheated.”_

“You don’t have any magic to cool yourself down?”

Serena glanced at Werond sheepishly. “ _Well I would but…my teacher used a lot of magic surrounding ice and uh…I didn’t want to copy him.”_

“So, you have no idea how to cool things down?”

“ _Nope! But I can make some amazing fires!”_ Werond laughed.

“Just what we need today, with the sun out.”

Serena grinned. She raised her arms into the air and leaned her head back, smiling as the cool air washed over her.

The wind blew Serena’s tunic against her frame, pulling the fabric taut; Werond stared for a moment, only to snap her attention back to the road.

“What all did you learn from your teacher?” she asked, leaning over the side of the wagon as though she were inspecting the wheels. She glanced back at Serena, who had slumped back in her seat, a single eye cocked.

“ _Why? Trying to learn my secrets?”_

“Nope, I was just curious is all. If that’s privileged information –”

“ _It’s not. I’m just curious why_ you _were curious.”_

“I’m bored boss. And I want to know.”

 _“I image.”_ Serena shot a look at Werond as she grinned. After a moment, Serena gestured to the stretch of open road. “ _Don’t know how you do this all day. I’d go insane and ram Cruck’aa’s wagon by now.”_

“And that’s why you aren’t allowed on the reins boss.”

Serena laughed, with that familiar silver melody flooding Werond’s mind.

Before, Serena’s laugh would have sent shivers down her spine. But Werond had gotten used to it by now and had begun to enjoy it. 

“ _Fair enough.”_ Serena signed. “ _Well, my teacher was a man named Bron. He was a really accomplished wizard and helped me understand what all I had going on…even if I had to beg him for a couple of years.”_

“How come?”

“ _Oh, he and Ned were convinced –”_

“Ned?”

“ _Bron’s husband. I lived with their family for nine years, and we all became close. But Bron and Ned were convinced that I’d end up hurting myself with the magic.”_ Serena looked up and squinted. _“I’m a sorcerer, so all the power and stuff is inside me, ‘churning and whirling like an endless maelstrom’…his words, not mine. Bron had no idea how to begin teaching me though. He’s a wizard, so he had to learn how to control the magic around him. I was able to do some of the stuff it took him years to figure out, but I was unable to control it. They had to teach me a lot of restraint.”_

“Did you ever hurt yourself?”

Serena let out a _pfft_. “ _All the time! I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I burned myself. I once didn’t have eyebrows for a_ month!” Serena shot Werond a horrified look. “ _Do you know how bad you look without eyebrows?!”_

“I uh…” Werond stifled a laugh. “no, but I image it’s pretty bad.”

“ _It’s horrible!”_

“Uh-huh. So, you were adopted then?”

“ _Kind of. That’s how Bron and Ned saw it, became a daughter to them. But my actual Mom and Dad didn’t...”_

“Didn’t want to give you up?”

Serena’s face twisted, and she looked back towards the road. Werond’s chest tightened.

“Sorry Serena, if it’s a sore topic –”

“ _No, it’s fine.”_ Serena signed, not looking at Werond; it took Werond sometime to realize that even seeing Serena’s signs from the corner of her eyes allowed her to hear her boss. “ _It’s complicated. I was ‘adopted’ by Ned and Bron, but only because Mom and Dad didn’t have a choice. They were being pursued by some…bad people. They were trying to take Dad away and…well, kill me and Mom. Ned – he was a family friend of ours – offered to take me in, and my parents…agreed to it.”_ Serena sat upright, as her lips twisted into a frown. “ _It wasn’t easy but…it was the only thing they could do.”_

“How long ago was that?

“ _Nine years. Haven’t seen them since.”_

“Oh,” Werond sucked in a breath, “I’m sorry.”

“ _It’s okay. Life happens, I guess. It’s gotten easier to live with over the years.”_

“What’s stopping you from going back home? Aside from being stuck on the caravan.”

“ _That’s actually what I’m doing. Walking back home. Dad promised they’d still be in Mirabar if I ever showed up again. I’m sure he’ll keep his word.”_

Werond frowned. “Working on a caravan seems like an odd way to get home though.” She said. “Especially since this one stops in Waterdeep. Doing it for some side money?”

“ _No, we got hired to investigate –”_ Serena flinched, her eyes suddenly wide. “ _Err, yes, I mean, yeah – we got hired as guards. I needed – we all needed the money!”_ She turned towards Werond; a massive grin plastered across her face.

“If that isn’t true about everyone, I don’t know what is.” Werond said. Serena nodded, and turned back towards the road. While most of the sweat had dried from her, Werond noticed new droplets forming on Serena’s head.

Werond shrugged. Her boss was hiding something, but it wasn’t her business to figure out what. She had her own problems anyways.

“ _I’m uh,”_ Serena signed and stood up. “ _gonna go finish doing…sorting the silk. Let me know if you need anything.”_

Werond let out an exaggerated sigh. “What, you’re just going to leave me to the open road?”

“ _Oh, you don’t want to listen to me talk, I’d just be blabbering like always.”_

“Doesn’t matter,” Werond said; she turned towards Serena and smiled warmly. “I always enjoy talking with you, even if it’s about nothing.”

Serena stared at Werond. The wagon wobbled and she grabbed the back of the chair for support.

Werond frowned.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“ _No – no – one,”_ Serena straightened up. “ _No one has ever said that to me before. You…surprised me a little.”_

“Oh. Well, I stand by it.” Werond smiled again.

Serena stood in place, swaying with the wagon as it road over the tiny bumps in the road.

Slowly, Serena’s cheeks brightened, until her whole face was redder than a tomato. She nodded once, before ungracefully scrambling back over the seat and into the wagon.

Werond’s smile remained as she focused her attention back towards the road. 


	5. A Respite From Boredom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Animal abuse  
> Sorry this is so late! I recently lucked into a job and haven't had as much mental energy to write. Took me forever to get this chapter done!  
> I think I'll try to release more each or every other Saturday, but I will have to see what my schedule is like.  
> Once again, thank you to everyone who reads this! It does mean a lot to me! 😃

Serena let out a silent huff and tossed the last bit of silk away from her. The wind drifted through the wagon, carrying the fabric up and out the back, until it fluttered out of sight. 

Serena sat cross-legged on a small stack of silk and stared at the bundles that lay strewn about. Of the seemingly endless amount of silk that the merchant had bought, Serena had only salvaged enough to make small bed spots for her and Werond. The rest, she realized, had been moth-eaten beyond recognition, and served no purpose save the campfires they helped start each night.

Her shoulders slumped. She had hoped to sell the fabric once they reached Waterdeep. Perhaps the merchant had been hasty in his choice to abandon his stock, and there still was some fabric worth selling. Barring that, Serena had hoped to take the unused portions and have a tailor fashion a dress from them. She liked the color – a snow white that reminded her of winters in Mirabar – and thought it would make the perfect lounge dress…if she ever had the time to wear one.

Uncurling her legs, Serena stretched out onto her silk pile, arching her back until the stiffness left her body. Despite the wasted effort, she was happy that she’d finally gotten through all of it. It had taken her weeks to examine each bundle – one bundle measured over fifty yards – but she was glad it was finally over.

Frustration welled up in her chest.

Serena rolled onto her front and pressed her face into the silk.

What was she to do now?

The Trade Way had been remarkably quiet for some time, and everyone was growing bored. Even the guards were looking for something to do, their hands darting to their weapons at the slightest breeze. Serena felt herself lucky that she had something that held her interest for so long and had even bragged to the others about it. However, now that the silk was accounted for, she hadn’t a clue how to occupy the hours until dinner, save staring out across the grass fields, or talking with Werond.

Her heart jumped. Serena squeezed her eyes shut as her face began to warm.

Damn that teamster.

They were no longer boss and subordinate, something that Serena had pushed for. But while she was glad that Werond was comfortable around her, all she did now was make Serena embarrassed with the little things Werond said. Whether it was little compliments here and there or actively seeking her out at dinner, Serena couldn’t go one conversation without her ears burning. And all to Werond’s amusement. Every time Serena felt her ears light up, Werond always gave her a tiny smirk, as if she had won an argument.

It was irritating, unprofessional, and downright rude.

And yet…

Something about talking with Werond still made Serena excited. While she was always happy to meet new people, those feelings always faded away once she began to know them. That wasn’t the case with her teamster. Werond was easy to talk to, and while her jabs of compliments were annoying, Werond _still_ made Serena giddy – well, more nervous than giddy.

Serena had no idea why. She wished the feeling would go away.

She leaned her head up and rested her chin against the silk. That wasn’t true. She liked those feelings of excitement that Werond gave her. Made her more fun to talk to then Pavel, or anyone else. 

Serena rolled onto her back, then frowned.

While she wrestled with her thoughts, she had felt the wagon begin to slow, until now, it stopped completely. She waited for a moment, before pushing herself up, and poking her head outside.

The caravan stood at a standstill, all the wagons in a straight line, one after the other. Teamsters and owners began poking their heads out, looking towards the front, then to one another, then back to the front. No one could see what the problem was.

Werond leaned over the side, muttering something under her breath. Her eyes flicked to Serena, causing her heart to beat a little faster.

“No clue.” She said, before Serena could raise her hands, and jumped off the wagon. Serena clambered onto the bench and hopped off with her. “You don’t suppose it’s the Drow, do you?”

“ _Are they at the front?”_ Serena asked.

“Last I checked.”

Some wagon owners had dismounted and walked off the side of the road, into the grass fields. Some of them began pointing towards the front, and muttering to each other in low voices. Werond followed suit and craned her head.

“Yeah, that’s their wagon. What’s the –” She gasped, starting Serena. “Oh gods, one of their horses collapsed!”

Serena jogged to Werond and stood beside her.

The second wagon from the front – more ornate than the others – had one of its horses on its knees, held upright only from the harness. Even from a distance, Serena could see the sweat pouring from its body; the beast’s head sagged and brushed the ground, eyes closed.

Pavel, along with the three other front guards, had dismounted, and stood around the collapsed animal. He had pulled his helmet off, and was gesturing at the horse; he spoke quickly, but neither he nor the other guards moved towards it.

“By Deneir, did they drive it to exhaustion?!” Werond asked. 

“ _How would that happen?”_ Serena signed. Werond shook her head. 

“I - I don’t know, are they -”

The door to the carriage slammed open.

A Drow, white hair slicked back, stepped out from inside the carriage. His red dress jacket looked ruffled, with the white undershirt pulled from his waist.

Serena blinked. She had never seen the Drow that rode in the caravan with them, but she had heard their names; Lord and Lady Zultan. 

The Lord’s face contorted into a sneer as he looked over the collapsed horse. He yanked free a whip from his belt and uncoiled it as he marched over; Pavel and the guards stepped back as Lord Zultan drew near.

“He’s not -” Werond began.

The Lord raised the whip, and with a flick, cracked it across the horse’s back. The animal jerked and let loose a piercing whine.

Werond gasped. The teamsters nearest to the Drow flinched and backed away.

Lord Zultan’s face contorted further, and he raised the whip again. Pavel stepped over to the Drow and stood beside him; he gestured wildly to the horse but made no move to stop the whip from biting again. The horse screamed long and hard, causing those closest to cover their ears.

Werond grabbed Serena’s arm and squeezed enough to make it ache.

“No no no no,” she stammered; her eyes were wide, and all color had drained from her face. “He can’t do - he shouldn’t do that! He’ll kill it!”

The Drow brought the whip down again, cutting a dark red gash across the animal’s back. The horse screamed and writhed in its harness.

Werond yelled and squeezed tighter.

Pavel switched his gestures to the Drow. Lord Zultan barely glanced at him before bringing the whip down a fourth time. Pavel talked faster and began looking to the other guards; Lord Zultan continued to ignore him, sneering at the bleeding animal.

“Serena,” Werond gasped out, “do something, please! Pavel’s not – and” she flinched as the whip came down again; the horse made no noise. “Oh gods, please, make him stop, something, I can’t…” Tears filled her eyes as she squeezed Serena’s arm harder.

Serena stood still; she knew Pavel had the authority to stop the Drow, she wasn’t needed. But that didn’t explain why he refused to grab Zultan and stop him, or why _none_ of the other guards moved to help. 

Blood ran down the horse’s back, soaking the road under it.

The Drow raised the whip again, anger still painted across his face.

Pavel had his palms up, as though he were pleading.

Serena cursed silently and yanked herself free from Werond. Taking three steps forward, she raised a hand, her fingers twitching.

Fire erupted from her palm – narrow as a bolt and brighter than a star – and screeched violently through the air.

It smashed into Lord Zultan’s hand, ripping the whip from his grasp. He screamed shrilly, causing Pavel to jump back; he whipped his head towards Serena, a look of horror painted across his face.

The other guards shed their roots and jogged over to the Drow, who now stood clutching his smoking hand. Serena covered the distance to Lord Zultan, only to stop as a guard barred her way.

Zultan let loose a curse and whirled on Serena from behind him. 

“How dare you strike me!” he spat, fury boiling in his eyes. “Fucking ignorant surface _rats_ like you need to learn your place -”

“ _Silence!_ ” Serena signed; her voice boomed in Undercommon, causing Lord Zultan to flinch and step back, his mouth twitching in poorly disguised shock. “ _You come to the surface and refuse to follow customs?! How dare you stop this caravan to whip a pack animal! I should cut you down where you stand!”_

“Brave words for the surface whore.” The Drow hissed. “Said only when someone else protects you!”

Serena shoved her way around the guard and stood within inches of Lord Zultan. Heat rose within her as she signed just under the Drow’s nose.

“ _Larger words from the slave. I’m surprised your voice is so deep since your master surely has castrated you by now.”_ Serena narrowed her eyes. “ _Or are you so unimportant that she can’t be bothered?”_

Lord Zultan opened and closed his mouth; his gaze flicked towards Serena’s neck, and his eyes grew wide.

Serena began to sign again before Pavel grabbed her and gently pulled her away.

“I haven’t a clue what either of you just said,” he said, “but now is not the time to be at each other’s throats.”

Serena whirled on Pavel; her hands shook enough that she could barely sign.

“ _Why didn’t you stop him?!”_ she yelled; Pavel winced. “ _You just…stood there!”_

“Serena I can’t touch him –”

“ _Why not?!”_

“They paid too much money, the organizers said –”

The door to the carriage slammed open again. Serena stiffened, and Pavel took a step back.

Lady Zultan ducked under the frame and stepped out. Her red dress shone bright against the pitch of her skin, and her white hair was pulled back with a black band. An air of superiority radiated from her, causing Serena’s heart to jump. Just from the way she walked, it was obvious that Lady Zultan spared no time for those under her.

Contempt flashed in her crimson eyes, as she surveyed the commotion outside her carriage. She placed a manicured hand against her hip and leaned her weight on one foot.

“What is the meaning of this?” the Lady asked harshly. “I issue _one_ order, and everyone believe it to be their business. Guard!” she barked towards Pavel. “Get these people under control, I have somewhere to be.”

Pavel turned away from Serena, his palms out to Lady Zultan. “Ma’am I’m trying to sort the situation out. We will move as soon as –”

“Get this caravan moving guard, or there will be _consequences_.” The Lady hissed through her teeth.

The shock of seeing the other Drow fled Serena, as her body began to shake again. She clenched her fists, gritted her teeth, and stalked over to the Drow.

As she did, Lord Zultan stiffened. Pavel moved beside Serena; his hands were ready to grab her.

“ _You told your slave to whip that horse?”_ Serena asked.

The Lady glanced at her as though Serena were a fly buzzing about her head.

“This doesn’t concern you girl.” She said, before turning towards Pavel.

Serena stepped in between them, blocking the Lady’s path. Lady Zultan’s eyes narrowed. 

“ _It does when you stop our entire caravan for an asinine order.”_ Serena switched to Undercommon, causing the Lady to curl a lip. “ _Have you no shame?! Killing an animal_ you _drove to exhaustion?! You stand on the surface, yet you know of no way to conform, to blend in, and wonder why they call you monsters.”_

“The surface should conform to us _girl_!” Lady Zultan spat back. “How dare you stand before _me_ and make such ridiculous claims! I should order your death for your _audacity_!”

“ _You can try”_ Serena growled, “ _but Lolth will laugh when I send you to Hell.”_

Barely restrained fury filled the Lady’s face; she raised a hand as if to strike Serena.

Pavel shoved himself between the pair. Behind him, the guards’ hands flew to their weapons.

Lady Zultan flicked her gaze towards them, then back to Serena.

Serena sneered, and stepped as close as Pavel would let her.

The Lady’s face contorted with outrage, and she dropped her hand; she whipped her head towards her other half.

“Vanet! Cut the horse from the carriage and get us moving! _Now!_ ”

Lord Zultan nodded quickly, and sprang over to the horses, yanking a knife from his belt as he did. Serena removed herself from behind Pavel; she stepped over and slapped his hand, causing him to violently flinch and back away.

Lord Zultan watched with fury as Serena placed her hands on the horse’s back; a dull, sliver light spread from them and the slash marks across the animal slowly healed.

“Serena,” Pavel said, once again standing next to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and tugged gently. “that’s not your horse to do that to, you need to stop.” Serena shot Pavel an annoyed look but kept her hands on the horse. Pavel tugged again, only to drop his hand.

The slashes across the horse’s back closed, and the light from Serena’s hands faded. Slowly, the horse hoisted itself from the ground, and Serena swore she saw relief across its face. She waved her hand and the blood disappeared with a small sucking noise.

Serena glared at the Lord, before pivoting on her heel, and stalking back towards her wagon. As she did, the crowd of teamsters and owners around them quickly turned and fled back to their wagons. From behind Serena, Lady Zultan screamed at Lord Zultan to get the carriage moving, causing the rest of the guards to scatter.

Serena sucked in a breath as she made her way back to the wagon.

She shouldn’t have done that, any of that. Regardless of Pavel or the guard’s cowardice towards the Drow, Serena knew that she only made more problems for herself by interfering. Pavel would be forced to reprimand her once they stopped for the night. And it was only a matter of time before the Zultan’s devised something to remove her from the caravan.

Or worse.

Serena shook her head. She’d deal with it when the problem presented itself, and not a moment before. She had had her fill of excitement for the day…and perhaps the week.

Werond remained where Serena had left her. Her eyes were glassy, a hand over her mouth. Serena waved at her.

“ _Sorry, that took –”_

Werond slammed into Serena and pulled her into a tight embrace. Serena froze, eyes wide, her hands shoved into her chest.

“Oh gods, thank you!” Werond said, pulling Serena tighter. “Gods that poor horse – thank you Serena, I can’t _stand_ something like that, I…” She pulled back, as two tears rolled down her face. “I don’t know what I’d do if he had died. Thank you, so much.”

Heat rose in Serena’s cheeks, until her face began to sweat. She dropped her hands and nodded.

Werond wiped a hand across her face and glanced at the front of the caravan. “Shit, we’re moving again, sorry – I didn’t mean to get like that.”

She turned and climbed back onto the bench and offered a hand to Serena.

Serena stared at it for a moment; she nodded, stepped forward, and accepted the help. As soon as Werond pulled her aboard the wagon, Serena scrambled over the bench and into the back, flinging herself down on her pile of silk.

She lay face down for a moment, before rolling over onto her back.

Slowly, Serena raised her hand and pinched the tip of her ear; she was shocked at the intensity of which they burned. 

She covered her face and kicked her legs against the wooden floor of the wagon.

Damn that woman.


	6. Late Night Talks

The half-moon hung in the night sky, accompanied only by a sprinkling of stars. A cloud drifted lazily across the black expanse, carried by a cool breeze that forced a shudder out of Serena. She snapped her fingers, and with a small sucking noise, the remnants of her soup vanished from the wooden bowl. Serena burped – as much as she could – and placed the bowl next to the fire, vowing to return it once it had died down.

It had been years since Serena had eaten alone. After the verbal lashing Pavel had given her in the food line, she held no desire to mingle with the other caravan members.

He had spared not a single detail in his tirade; Pavel made it known just how in the wrong Serena had been that today, after the “horse debacle”, as he called it. More methodically than he was known for, Pavel had listed off each offence that she had committed in the span of five minutes: tampering with someone’s property, dealing with a matter that didn’t concern her, antagonizing another wagon owner, and, worst of all as Pavel had said, unjustly attacking a caravan member. For that offence alone, Serena should have been ejected from the caravan. She was lucky that all the guards had vetoed the decision.

The entire caravan had fallen quiet by the time the cook had scooped her portion. Serena wished the ground would swallow her right there. 

Pavel only exacerbated the issue after Serena had ran halfway to the wagon, tail between her legs. Pulling her aside, he told her that he was sorry, and that he understood why she interfered. Pavel would have been right there with her…had he not signed a contract in Baldur’s Gate that denied him, or anyone else for that matter, the ability to touch the Zultans. According to him, they paid too much money to be bothered by everyone else on the caravan, save the guards who were specifically instructed to look after them above all else. But, at the same time, were not to ‘interfere’ with them.

Serena squeezed her eyes shut; she shouldn’t have shocked Pavel when he offered his hand. He was just trying to be a good friend. But she had no plans to apologize. Not to him, nor to anyone else. In her gut, Serena knew she made the right choice, and damn any of those men telling her otherwise.

Letting loose a silent sigh, Serena stretched her arms above her head, and leaned back against the grassy embankment. Part of the Trade Way that the caravan halted on had gentle grassy slopes that led up to the road, as though the ground decided to rise and accommodate only this narrow stretch. It looked inviting, and when she laid out against it, fire next to her feet and wagon just slightly behind her, Serena felt more comfortable than she’d felt in weeks.

She was glad, as she’d be sleeping outside tonight.

Werond had been absent from the soup line when Serena was yelled at, having somehow convinced Bo to sell some of his alcohol to her. She had approached Serena sheepishly afterwards and offered her condolences with a bottle of wine. Not one to drink, Serena had turned her down, but told Werond to enjoy herself without her, especially after what had happened earlier. Werond nodded and promised to drink enough for both of them.

Serena shook her head. Werond would make well on that promise.

Another breeze blew across the embankment, causing the fire to dance about like a drunken bar patron. Serena shivered, and scooted closer to the heat.

Faint sounds of laughter and heated argument drifted in from down the road. Serena didn’t know whose wagon it came from, but the sounds of merriment, of glasses clinking together and stories being told, tugged at her. Despite the usual friendliness, she wouldn’t be welcome around the fires tonight. Perhaps tomorrow as well.

Gazing out towards edge of the firelight and into the darkness, she felt a hollowness in her chest. How long since she’d been this alone?

Through the merriment, she picked up the faint sound of dirt crunching under boots, drawing nearer to her wagon.

Serena frowned; Werond wasn’t due back until after the fires had died down, and the people behind her wagon hadn’t gone to the soup line tonight. Perhaps it was Pavel, looking to apologize – although if it was, Serena was in no mood to talk with him.

The footsteps grew closer, louder, until they stopped on the other side of her wagon. Serena twisted her head and from her spot along the embankment, could barely make out a pair of dark boots from the other side.

After a moment, the figure walked around the wagon, down the embankment, and towards her fire.

Serena sat up to greet them.

Then leapt to her feet, teeth gritted. 

Lord Zultan raised his hands, palms out, eyes wide.

“ _The fuck do you want?!”_ Serena growled. A soft light burned between her fingers – a bolt at the ready.

“Peace!” Zultan said quickly. “Serena, I mean you no harm.”

“ _What? Who told you my name?!”_

“Pavel did, I asked! Please Serena, I come bearing no ill will.”

Serena glanced the Drow over; his dress jacket was missing, and the white tunic under was torn in multiple spots across the shoulders and chest, exposing his dark skin to the light. Sweat glistened on his head, causing strands of white hair to stick in odd places.

The light in her hands winked out. “ _You look like hell.”_ She said, noticing the dark circles under Lord Zultan’s eyes.

“I feel like hell.” He put a hand on his waist and rubbed the nape of his neck. “The Lady made sure I wouldn’t forget my mistakes today.”

“ _You walked all this way expecting sympathy from me?”_

“No. I expect nothing but scorn from you.”

“ _Good. Now, I’m in no mood to talk to –”_

“Serena, please, I know you hate me, but I wish to speak to you cordially.”

“ _About what?”_

“I want to apologize.”

Serena blinked. She stepped forward, her hands beginning to shake.

“ _You should apologize to the entire caravan, not me.”_ Serena signed; her voice echoed louder in Zultan’s head, causing him to flinch.

“None of them would understand me, you know that Serena. I tried to convince the Lady to allow the horse rest, but she would hear _none_ of it. What else was I to do? Had I refused, she’d have killed me, you know that.”

“ _What makes you think I’d understand?! Or even care?!”_ Serena spat.

“Because you’re a Lash.”

Serena flinched, and stepped back. Silence lapsed between them as Serena stared a hole through Lord Zultan.

He shifted his weight about and rubbed the nape of his neck again.

“It’s ah…” he said, before gesturing towards Serena’s neck. “It’s obvious if you know the houses. They only give those to family, and if I had to guess…you’d be Vorn’s child, wouldn’t you?”

“ _How do you know about him?”_ Serena whispered, eyes narrowed.

Something flashed across his face, an emotion that Serena couldn’t discern. Lord Zultan shrugged.

“I know of the family. They’re a force not to be trifled with, among others. When I lived in Menzoberranzan, Vorn made a name for himself by escaping with his…well, you’d call her his wife, I assume your mother. I know her to be Vorn’s ‘prize’. I…respected him, for that. I wished to be free as well but…didn’t have the stones to do it.” Lord Zultan finally met Serena’s gaze. “I suppose that, had I known from the start that you were a Lash, none of that would have happened. So…I apologize, for it all.” 

“ _Do you think any of that makes it better?”_

“It doesn’t. I know that.”

“ _Then why are you coming over here and throwing around that you know my Dad?”_ Serena signed.

Lord Zultan stepped closer, his gaunt features illuminated in the firelight.

Serena stiffened.

“Because I want _out._ ” he said in a low tone, “The only reason I’m with that _bitch_ was because she offered me a chance to leave the Underdark. And now I’m stuck whipping _horses_ for her. I never wanted this, to be under the heel of a society that decries my inferiority based only upon what dangles between my legs. What happened today was terrible and I understand how infuriated you are at me, but…Serena, you’re the only one who would understand my predicament, or even hear me out. None of the guards would assist me, no one in the caravan would even tolerate my presence near them. Except you. Because you and I share an uncommon heritage. Because Vorn has no doubt told you how terrible it is for Drow like us. All I ask is that you help me remove that vile woman when the time is right.” Zultan rubbed his neck. “Will you at least think it over?”

Serena stared at the Drow in front of her. Just hours ago, Lord Zultan had almost whipped a horse to death over something that he more than likely caused. And now he stood before her, head slightly bowed, begging for his life.

She bit her lip and looked away. Lord Zultan didn’t deserve her forgiveness, or her help. 

But if what he said was true, then neither did he deserve to be chained to Lady Zultan.

And who was she to deny a Drow his desire for freedom? Had her father not held that same desire…

For a moment, she swore the pendant against her neck warmed. But when she brushed her fingers against her neck, it felt as cool as the night air. 

“ _I’ll consider it.”_ Serena signed, causing Lord Zultan to brighten. “ _But only if you tell me about how you knew my Dad. And his side of the family.”_

“Of course, of course.” He said, clasping his hands together. “I can’t tonight though. The Lady will begin to suspect if I’m gone for too long. May I find you another time, and then we may talk?”

“ _Fine.”_

“Alright.” Lord Zultan stepped back and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Serena Lash. You may have just saved my life.”

“ _We’ll see.”_

Lord Zultan nodded, before turning on his heel, and marching up the embankment.

Serena waited until the crunch of his boot steps faded away, before walking back to her spot and laying back down next to the fire. She ran a hand through her hair and let out a silent huff. By now, the conversations from the other wagons had died down, with only the crackling of the fire to fill the silence of the night.

She should have turned Lord Zultan away. Nothing good would come from helping a Drow – no, someone like him. Especially if it meant going against that creature he called a wife. Serena know that, regardless of how the Lord would do it, breaking away from the Lady would be a messy affair, not just for him – and now Serena – but for the entire caravan.

Yet Serena could not just leave him to suffer from his fate. Refusing to help him would be a slap in the face to everything her parents had taught her, and her father’s very existence on the surface. And, if Lord Zultan did know about her family, Dad would more than likely go out of his way to help him. Even if it meant risking his own life.

She closed her eyes and scooted closer towards the fire. Of course, it could all be a lie. She knew how easy it was to recognize the Drow houses, should you know their symbols. And it wouldn’t be hard to figure out why a half-elf wore the symbol of a house that birthed a race traitor.

Well, if something were to happen, Pavel would have a chance to prove just how sorry he was. With a smirk, Serena shoved the idea away; what a horrible thought to have. 

As she began to drift off, Serena was awoken by the sounds of more boots crunching against dirt. This time, they did not fall in a normal rhythm, but instead staggered about, until finally they stopped at her wagon.

A hiccup sounded from above her, and Serena grinned. With a flick of her wrist, she blew a shower of sparks into the air, over the wagon.

“Wha?!” Werond slurred from behind the wagon. “You not inthe wagon?”

Her footsteps grew closer as she walked around the wagon. Serena turned her head, and saw Werond, tunic disheveled and hair a mess, standing on the edge of the embankment. Even from a distance, Serena could see the flushness of her face and the ridiculous grin plastered across it.

“Wait, where –” Werond began, before stepping forward.

Serena shoved herself up, but not in time to stop Werond from tumbling down the embankment, landing roughly on her back at the edge of the light.

Serena rushed over and dropped onto her knees by Werond. Before she could raise her hands, Werond began giggling.

“Imma do that again.” She said. Werond tried to prop herself up on an elbow, only to wobble and fall back, causing more giggles to escape.

“ _And here I was worried you’d hurt yourself.”_ Serena signed, leaning back on her legs.

The giggling stopped abruptly, and Werond stared at Serena.

“I’m fine. I’m _inshicible.”_

“ _Um…”_ Serena grinned as another fit of giggles broke through Werond. “ _I take it you had fun?”_

“No!” Werond struggled upright, wobbling horribly, and pulled her legs under her. “I mean yesh no! All I was –” a burped ripped through her, and Serena cringed from the smell. “was shurrounded by Bo and thattall guard and another – _gat_ fuy, and it wash terrible! Why didn you comealong?!”

“ _I…didn’t feel like drinking. Besides, you don’t want me there, I’m a –”_

“Yesh I did!” Werond pulled herself closer to Serena, enough for her to smell the booze on her breath. “Being – around you ish fun!” Her brows furrowed. “You like being around – me too, right?”

“ _I do!_ ” Serena said quickly, as she uncurled her legs and pushed away slightly. “ _Gods Werond, how much did you drink?”_

“I din’t drink _that_ much.”

“ _Right…I think you should call it. You need to drive the wagon tomorrow.”_

“Ah can drive like thish!”

“ _I don’t think you can.”_

Werond leaned to one side and tugged at her tunic. “Thish hot.” Her head snapped up, the motion causing her to lean back, almost falling over. “Hey hey bosh, I shaw that _Drow_ guy walking back! Whatsh he doin over here?”

“ _Oh…”_ Serena glanced away from Werond’s unfocused gaze. “ _He just wanted to apologize for…everything that happened today. Don’t think I’ll –”_

“What?!” Werond screamed, her voice echoing through the night. Serena waved frantically as she continued. “That shounds like a joke! He didn mesh around withyou did he?!”

“ _Werond! Shush! No, he didn’t, he just wanted to talk.”_

“Good! Cuz itsh me who can mesh with you, no one elsh!”

Serena shook her head. “ _No, you can’t either, I don’t like it when you mess with me.”_

Werond leaned back, then forward, head down, eyes staring sharply at Serena.

“Yesh you do.”

_“I don’t!”_ Serena grinned involuntarily, her face becoming warm. “ _It’s really irritating Werond!”_

Werond grinned wolfishly.

She pulled herself closer, and as she did, her eyes refocused.

Werond placed her hands on Serena’s knees, and wobbled slightly as she leaned in.

“ _Hey!”_ Serena signed, heart in her throat. “ _Werond, knock it –”_

She leaned forward, placed a hand on Serena’s chest, and shoved her onto her back.

Serena’s hands froze against her chest; Werond straddled her waist, brushed her thick hair out of her face, and leaned in, planting both hands next to Serena’s head. 

The fire reflected from Werond’s amber eyes, as though they were aflame.

She leaned forward until her dark face was Serena’s entire world.

Her heart slammed against her chest as if to meet Werond halfway.

Her breath was hot against Serena’s face as Werond whispered, her husky and now steady voice sending goosebumps down her body.

“You love it when I mess with you. You’re easy to read. Just imagine how much fun we’d have if you just gave into it, Ser – en – a Lash.”

Serena shivered at her own name.

Werond leaned forward, pressing her head against Serena’s.

A fire ripped through her body, igniting a desire that Serena had hidden for so long.

She closed her eyes, her body shaking, unsure of what to do.

Werond sighed. 

Then slipped, and fell sideways from Serena, rolling onto her back next to her. She broke out into another fit of giggles as Serena’s eyes snapped open.

“Shorry, I…” Werond stuffed a fist into her mouth, to no avail. “Carried away.”

Serena stared straight ahead, before rolling on her side, and burying her face into her hands. Her ears burned so much that Serena worried the grass might catch aflame. 

“Please don’t do that.”

“Shorry bosh.” Werond giggled.

Slowly, the rest of her laughter escaped from her lips, until Werond finally lapsed into silence.

A moment later, her snores pierced through the night.

Serena continued to lay on her side, as she waited for the flame within her to subside. As it did, she sucked in a breath, pushed herself up, and forced herself to walk up the embankment and to the wagon; she fished out the larger pieces of silk they used as blankets, and walked back to Werond, who had now sprawled out on the grass.

She flicked the silk out and draped it over Werond, who grabbed it and rolled onto her side, pulling it over most of her body.

Serena stared down at Werond. She turned and put a foot forward.

Then stopped.

She looked back, took another step, then stopped again.

With a sigh, Serena laid down next to Werond, and wrapped her own blanket about her. 

She needed to be close, just in case Werond decided to puke.

That was a lie she could live with.


	7. Early Morning Embarrassment

An assortment of bird cages lined the fabric walls of the wagon, in seemingly random patterns. The cages – both large and small – were strapped to the wooden poles that supported the thick canvas covering of the wagon. Stacked from floor to ceiling, any other worker would have trouble differentiating the order in which they were arranged. Yet, for Cruck’aa, there was a reason for their layout.

He had arranged the cages into groups, with each section filled with birds that were happy to be one another’s neighbor. The smaller, chattier birds stuck together, while the larger, solitary birds occupied a corner to themselves. Other birds were placed in the middle, with the those more likely to make friends sharing a border with the chatty ones, while the quieter birds were placed with the other, more introverted birds.

With this organization, Cruck’aa had changed the cacophony of shrieks and shrills to a chorus of song, something that his employer was amazed at.

Cruck’aa took the praise in stride – and didn’t tell him that he could simply ask the birds where they wished to be. Being an Aarakocra had its perks.

One of the chattier birds, a tiny grey cockatiel, hopped up and down in its cage, and yelled for Cruck’aa’s attention.

“Out! Out!” it shouted, jumping about like a rabbit. “Out! Out!”

“Yes, yes” Cruck’aa said evenly. He walked over, ensuring the movement of the wagon didn’t throw him off, and opened the cage. The cockatiel climbed onto his talon, a gleam in its eye. “Out, out.”

Each bird was allotted a specific time in which they were able to fly about the caravan and stretch their wings, something that his employer had never given thought to. However, Cruck’aa only let those out who he knew would come back; after the first escape, he knew which group of birds would make a break for it the moment they could.

If only he could accommodate them. 

He walked to the back of the wagon, opened the flaps, and shot his hand out; the cockatiel flew out, and began fluttering about the top of the wagon. Cruck’aa grinned as he watched the small bird enjoy its freedom.

“But, boss, I don’t know what I did!”

Cruck’aa’s grin faded immediately as he sat down on the edge of the wagon, watching the cockatiel closely.

Down the road, Serena’s wagon followed just close enough for him to overhear their conversation. They same conversation they had been having for days.

And he was sick of it.

The teamster that called herself Werond was sitting rudely on the driver’s bench. She had leaned back and kicked her legs up on the wagon’s frame and had one arm laid out over the backrest. Cruck’aa couldn’t wrap his head around her instance of wearing clothes that looked worn beyond time. Her tunic and work pants were faded from the sun, with mended holes in various spots across the fabric, and worst of all, they seemed to be the only pair of clothes she owned.

She gripped the reins in her mouth, and pulled her thick hair back, throwing it over the frame of the bench as she leaned back into her original spot.

Serena sat next to her, skirt pulled tight around her legs, and bunched up under her. Her white tunic looked spotless next to Werond if a bit ruffled.

Cruck’aa could barely see her signs but still heard her voice, clear as day.

“ _No! I’m not talking about it!”_ Serena’s blue eyes were narrowed, face contorted in irritation. “ _I don’t want to talk about it! You need to take responsibility for your mistakes, not me!”_

Werond grinned in confusion. “Serena, how am I going to do that…when I don’t know what I did?”

“ _You should know!”_ Serena yelled in Cruck’aa’s head, her hands a fury of motion; though she seemed furious, Cruck’aa thought that she was trying too hard, as though Serena was covering something else. “ _You should remember! I shouldn’t have to remind you –”_ She let loose a yell of frustration, and turned away, fists balled against her legs.

Werond’s grin hadn’t faded. “And I agree with you! I do! But I can’t fix something that I don’t remember doing. You’d agree with that, right?”

Serena didn’t respond; she stared her fingernails as though they held the secrets of the world.

“Hey, I didn’t know there was a spell to paint your nails, that’s pretty nifty.” Werond said, scooting over to Serena. “Think I could learn that sometime? Is it just black or is there a better color?”

Serena shot her a look that caused Werond to slide back to her side of the bench, laughing nervously. 

“Okay, okay, sorry boss.”

The pair lapsed into silence, with Werond driving and Serena now stroking her braid of hair that lay against her chest.

Cruck’aa began to express his thanks to Aerdrie, when Werond opened her mouth again. 

“Okay how ‘bout this,” she said, “you won’t tell me, and I can’t remember. So, I’ll start listing off stuff, and you tell me if I’m close to…whatever I did. That way I can figure things out, and you don’t have to talk about it. Sounds good?”

Serena shot Werond another look but this time, Werond wasn’t deterred.

“Okay, okay, so…I did something so bad that you’ve been holding a grudge for days. Is it…about the Zultans?” Serena shook her head. “Hmm. What about food? I know I forgot your soup a couple nights ago.” Serena furrowed her brows. “Oh, okay. Uh…did I mess up the sleeping spots in the wagon? I know I tore the blanket at some point…but wait, you fixed that, that’s not it. Uh…oh! You wanted to drink with Bo! And I drank all of it!”

“ _Close.”_ Serena signed angrily. Werond nodded, paying no heed to her irritation.

“Close huh? Okay, I can work with that. Wait, you said you don’t drink so it wasn’t that…but I did get shit-faced that night – oh, I said something, didn’t I!” Serena looked away, staring off into a distant forest that lay beyond the grass plains. “Yeah, I did! So, I said something bad to you…oh, but if I said something bad, then I bet anything that I _did_ something bad too, huh?” Serena remained silent. “Oh…well if I _did_ something then…”

Werond grinned.

She slid across the bench, and leaned into Serena’s ear, whispering something that Cruck’aa couldn’t hear.

Serena whipped around, face turning scarlet, and punched Werond in the chest. Werond threw her head back and let loose a deep throated laugh, as Serena continued her assault.

“Boss, boss!” Werond said through her laughter, sliding once more to her side. “I get it, too much! And sorry about…whatever I did that night. Hopefully, it wasn’t _too_ enjoyable.”

Serena’s eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth as if to speak. Werond laughed as, to Cruck’aa’s surprise, Serena’s face became redder than the sun. Werond reached over and patted Serena on the back, as she buried her face into her hands.

Cruck’aa sighed. Perhaps now those two would shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought there should be a follow up from the previous chapter. I didn't want to accidentally move on and have that fun little night not be discussed!  
> Oh, and I forgot Cruck'aa was a character in this, so this is also trying to get him back in the narrative.


	8. Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, this is one of those scene where I don't think is going to hit the hardest, as there wasn't much character build up. I wrote myself into a corner, just based on how I decided to write the narrative as a whole (skipping certain events) but overall, that's okay. I'm just trying to get through to the better stuff that happens way later!

A horn sounded from the front of the caravan, sending a low rumble over the trees and through Werond’s body. She lay still in the back of the wagon, covered by two layers of silk, and with bated breath, counted slowly in her head. When she hit ten, Werond pushed the silk from herself and stood up.

Minutes ago, she had almost crashed into Cruck’aa’s wagon as the entire caravan grounded to a halt. Serena had jolted awake from her nap in the bench, kicking one of her boots off the wagon, as Werond looked about in confusion. The moment that Serena asked what the hell was going on, a deep horn sounded from the front of the wagon train.

Serena swore and stood up on the bench, tiptoeing in an attempt to see above Cruck’aa’s wagon. Simultaneously, Cruck’aa leapt out the back of his wagon, spread his wings, and soared into the air – into the treetops – angling towards the front of the caravan.

Bo came sprinting from the back, chest heaving, and yelled at Serena in some euphemism that could only mean to get moving. After catching his breath, he dashed off after Cruck’aa, yelling something about his booze.

“Serena, what the hell –”

“ _Need to defend the front!”_ Serena had yelled, stuffing her foot into one boot, and hopping down to retrieve the other. “ _Don’t move until you hear the horn again! Stay in the wagon!”_

“But –” Werond began.

“ _That’s not a request Werond!”_ Serena yelled, finally getting her other boot on. “ _Hide in the back and don’t! Move!”_

Before Werond could argue, Serena dashed off, teeth gritted, hands aflame.

Werond sat still, watching Serena until she veered out of sight, before climbing into the back of the wagon.

She was the boss, after all.

With tentative hands, Werond pulled the cloth apart, and poked her head out the back of the wagon. Everything seemed quiet around her – the teamster on the wagon behind them, a man whose name she did not know, stepped out from inside his wagon and plopped down onto the bench, a look of boredom across his face. Taking it as a sign, Werond retreated, and stepped out the front, sitting back down on the bench.

Worry lodged in her chest; it was the first time that an attack had occurred to the caravan. While she was safe near the back, many of the wagons in the front would be in danger, and while she knew almost no one up there, Werond still didn’t want to see anyone hurt.

Including Serena.

She let out a nervous sigh and shifted about in the bench. Werond had no idea that Serena was one of the defenders; she knew that, in times of trouble, the caravan guards could call upon a few volunteers to help defend the train, but it never occurred to Werond that Serena might be one of them. It made sense; she would have to imagine that the ability to fling fire from her hands would make Serena valuable to any defensive operation.

Still, Werond worried. Serena wasn’t weak, she could handle her own, what with all the fire. But accidents could still occur, and if something happened…

Werond grimaced and shook her head. Bad thoughts to have right after a skirmish.

Cruck’aa appeared from the trees, flapping over to his wagon, and landing behind it. His beak was twisted into a tight frown, but Werond breathed a sigh of relief and waved.

“Hey, how was everything?”

Cruck’aa faced away from her, eyes narrowed, climbed into his wagon, and drew the flaps shut.

Werond stared, anxiety gnawing further in her chest. 

She stood up in the bench and craned her neck around the tops of the wagons, staining to see anyone walking towards the wagon. Her heart was in her chest.

Hate was a strong word, but Werond knew that Cruck’aa disliked her. For whatever reason, the Aarakocra would go out of his way to avoid talking to her. But after something like this? Perhaps he wasn’t being rude.

Part of her yearned to hop down and stick her head into his wagon, ask Cruck’aa what the hell had happened. But she needed to be on the wagon when Serena came back…even if it was just some feet away.

After what felt like an hour, the top of Serena’s head came into view, further down the road. Werond released a breath she didn’t know she was holding and dropped back onto the bench. As Serena drew closer, coming from the side of Cruck’aa’s wagon, Werond waved. 

“Hey boss!” she said, “good to see you’re…” Werond’s voice trailed off as she focused on Serena.

Eyes unfocused, her boss ambled slowly over, dragging one foot in front the other. Her white tunic was pulled from her skirt, streaked with dirt, and her hair was loose from its ponytail. A look of dull shock was frozen across her face, the normally bottomless well of energy gone.

Werond’s heart leapt again as she watched Serena pull herself onto the bench. With a straight back, she dropped her hands into her lap and stared at them, jaw taunt.

Staring, Werond leaned towards her. “Serena? What’s wrong? Did someone get hurt?”

Serena did not move. Werond asked again, louder.

After a moment, Serena blinked, and stared straight ahead, barely moving her hands out her lap.

“ _Bo didn’t make it.”_

It was Werond’s turn to stare.

“You’re…tell me you’re joking.”

“ _I really wish I was.”_

“Ah, _fuck_.”

Werond leaned back against the bench as a weight settled over her. Glancing over at Serena, she felt her chest grow tighter. She wasn’t close with Bo, more on good speaking terms, and while she hated to see the man go, Werond could imagine what Serena must have felt. 

“Can…I ask what happened?”

Serena nodded, and closed her eyes. “ _The caravan wasn’t attacked. Some else’s wagon was. It was…overturned, jumped by hobgoblins. We rushed in to help, Bo ran up with Pavel, I stayed behind and helped the people in the wagon…but, ah…Bo took a nasty cut and…”_ Serena’s voice faded away.

“You don’t have to tell me if its –”

“ _No, no its –”_ She sucked in a shaky breath. “ _he got hit and went down and we didn’t get to him in time. The…the tallest one gutted him on the ground we…”_ She opened her eyes, now glassy. “ _didn’t get a chance.”_

“Gods…” Werond rubbed her face. “did you at least get the one who did it?”

Serena nodded.

“Good…fuckers deserved it.”

Serena slumped at her words. Werond’s skin pricked as if stuck by hot needles, and as she began to speak, to apologize, Serena raised her hands.

“ _It’s my fault.”_ Serena signed flatly. “ _If I had been there, I could have saved him. I know I could.”_

The weight released itself from Werond’s chest as she straightened up.

“No.” Werond said, more forcefully than needed, turning to fully face Serena. “don’t say that. That’s a dangerous way to think.” 

“ _It’s the truth.”_

“It’s not, and you know it.” Werond said, her voice firm.

“ _You weren’t there.”_

“I know I wasn’t there Serena, but I know that what happened wasn’t your fault.”

Serena whipped towards her, eyes wide.

“ _You don’t know that!”_ Serena’s voice rang out in Werond’s head. “ _I could have saved him, I could! I didn’t do enough! I –”_

Anger flashed through Werond. She reached out, and grasped Serena’s wrists, holding her hands in place. Serena’s eyes widened as Werond spoke.

“If you’re half the person you make yourself out to be, then you did everything within your power to save him. I know that Serena…and so do you.” Werond said.

Serena shook her head; tears began to roll down her cheeks as she tried to look away.

Werond pulled her closer, their legs touching, forcing Serena to look at her. 

“You’re always going to think that you could have done something different.” She said. “Maybe yelling for help, maybe acting faster, maybe throwing out more fire – you’ll _always_ have those thoughts. They’ll keep you up at night, eating away at your sanity if you let them. You _can’t_ do that to yourself, you can’t. Don’t fall down that hole, it’s too slippery to crawl back out of, I…” Werond sighed. “I would know…I’ve been around that block more times than you think. And I don’t think Bo would want you to do that either. He’d tell you to stop moping and get on with it!” Werond forced a smile. “He knew what he was doing, and Bo wouldn’t have it any other way. At least, that’s what I think.” Werond released Serena’s wrists. “But what I know, is that he’d be okay with your efforts. There’s nothing ignoble about trying and failing. It’s the only thing you can do sometimes. Raise a glass for him, keep Bo in your thoughts, and never forget that fat man.” Werond smiled again. “I think he’d like that. Right?”

Serena stared at her, small tears rolling down her cheeks.

Werond sighed.

“I know,” she said, “how easy it is for me to say…all of that. You were closer to him. I…can’t feel what you’re feeling, and I doubt you’ll ever be able to express it all to me. I can’t offer you my tears, they won’t do anything for you. So…I won’t sit and cry with you. I can’t. But I promise to move with you, to help you from this. I’ve been in your place before, I have, and the one thing I wanted above all else was someone to hold onto. I’ll be that person for you if you let me. I don’t want to see you go through this. No one should force themselves to go through a death alone.”

Tentatively, Werond reached out and gently held Serena’s hands.

“Rely on me, just as you would anything else. Please.”

Her heart thumped against her chest as she kept her gaze on Serena’s glassy eyes.

Serena, face flushed, hands shaking, squeezed her eyes shut.

And nodded.

Werond breathed a sigh of relief. Instinctively, she pulled Serena in and wrapped her arms about her. As it dawned on her the line that she may have crossed, Serena buried her head against Werond’s chest, just under her chin.

Her heart jumped.

Werond ran a ran through Serena’s hair, resting her chin against the mess of hair.

Maybe she wasn’t as confident as she appeared to be.

Off the side of the road, two sets of hoofbeats sounded by them.

“Look I’ll miss him a lot,” Pavel said, riding past them. “but I’m honestly worried about his wagon.”

“How come?” the guard with him asked.

“Because it’ll be anarchy! Everyone’s going to want some! Nicolas Cage damnit, you’d think he’d drank it all by now, what with his stomach!”

Werond squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself against it, but couldn’t stop the chuckling that came forth. After a moment, Serena jerked, as if holding back a single laugh, turning Werond’s chuckles into laughter. She released Serena, stuffing a fist into her mouth to cut off more of her laughter. Serena leaned backed, barely suppressing a grin, as she covered her face with her hands.

“That’s not funny!” Werond said around her fist. Serena burst into a fit of silent laughter, turning away from Werond, biting a knuckle.

The caravan had begun to move, and as their laughter subsided, Cruck’aa’s wagon began rolling down the road.

Werond sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the reins.

“I think,” she said slowly, fighting back more giggles. “that Bo would have loved that.”

“ _Yeah.”_ Serena signed, wiping fresh, joyful tears from her face.

After a moment, she turned back to Werond; her eyes were rubbed raw, but a small smile was painted across her face.

“ _Thank you Werond. I…really needed that.”_

Werond grinned back.

“Of course. I’ll always be here for ya.”


	9. Overnight Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter piece; I had originally wanted to keep the whole thing together, but I was struggling to end the second part, so I though I'd just throw this part in so there'd be something to read.

"To Bo!” Pavel shouted above the din. “May his keg never run out!”

The table cheered as everyone threw back their mugs. Cold ale hit the back of Serena’s throat, causing her to sputter and cough up the bitter tasting drink.

Werond laughed and slammed her back with a fist. “Easy boss!” she said, as Serena coughed silently. “Bitter shit don’t go down easy the first time!”

The caravan had stopped in some tiny town off the side of the Trade Way. Serena couldn’t remember what the name was – something with an S – but she was glad that it was just an overnight visit. Apart from the tavern and currently closed market, nothing in the town called out to her, or made her eager to stay. It was no wonder then that the caravan was swamped by eager townsfolk, seeking passage out of their quaint dead-end town.

No one could afford the fee. Pavel had seen to it personally, turning away each would be vagabond. Werond had nudged Serena at one point, and together, they watched as two attractive barmaids attempted unsuccessfully to seduce Pavel for a free ride.

“Poor girls have no idea.” Werond chuckled, as Pavel dismissed them, oblivious to their low-cut tunics.

It was after the barmaids, frustrated and confused, had left, that Pavel approached Serena and Werond, inviting them both to celebrate Bo’s life. Paid for by the money left in Bo’s purse, of course.

Werond had grabbed Serena and dragged her along before she had a chance to say no.

And now Serena sat on a crummy bench in between Werond and Pavel – Cruck’aa sourly across from them – attempting to drink ale for the first time, under dim flickering torchlight in a backwater bar. Around them, the regular drunken patrons griped and groaned about their misfortunes, shooting their table dirty looks every other sentence. 

She gulped down another mouthful of ale, this time not biting as much.

Serena grinned. It was fun.

“I understand wanting to remember him,” Cruck’aa said, gingerly pushing away his ale. “but that stuff is poison.”

“Naah!” Werond said, sipping from her mug. “It’s all about moderation. Can’t poison you if you don’t down a tankard every night.”

“Which I’m sure Bo did.” Pavel said. “Wonder how he didn’t keel over earlier.”

“ _He was built tough.”_ Serena signed, setting her mug down. “ _Never realized how much he could drink.”_

“And I never realized how _little_ you drink!” Werond said, pointing her mug at a now scowling Cruck’aa. “Not even half a mug, huh?”

“And I never realized how dependent you were on the bottle.” Cruck’aa shot back, feathers ruffled.

“Compared to Bo, I’m pretty responsible.”

Serena’s hands twitched on the table, sending a loud laugh through everyone’s minds.

Werond grinned.

“Okay, so I wasn’t responsible _once._ ” She said, before turning towards Serena. “You still haven’t told me what I did that night, boss.”

Serena smiled coyly. “ _You’re right! Here, lean in and I’ll tell you. It’s a bit embarrassing.”_

Werond grinned and obliged, a hand cocked on her ear.

Serena leaned towards her, then jabbed two fingers into Werond’s ribs, sending a harmless shock through her.

She jerked to the side, yelping, and dumped ale over herself and Serena.

Serena jerked towards Pavel, and threw her hands up, flinging drops of ale into the air.

Pavel chocked in his mug, spraying ale from his mouth and down his tunic; he pushed away from Serena, laughing as he coughed up the rest of his drink.

“You bitch!” Werond exclaimed; her face twitched as she desperately tried to hide a grin. “That’s my favorite tunic!”

“ _That’s your only tunic!”_ Serena signed.

Werond threw her head back, her laugh echoing throughout the tavern, as a fit of giggles consumed Serena. She waved a hand, and with a small sucking noise, the spilled ale vanished.

Cruck’aa shook his head but remained silent. Pavel wiped his mouth, then used the same sleeve to mop up the table.

“Well,” Pavel said with a grin. “I have to back Werond, she seems pretty responsible.”

“ _What?!”_ Serena exclaimed. “ _Pavel you didn’t see her that night with Bo, it was terrible!”_

Pavel shook his head. “No, I did see her. I walked past them during my little patrol around the camps.”

Werond cocked her head. “Well then you _must_ have seen me shitfaced, right? I _was_ pretty far gone.”

“No, you looked fine to me! Bo and everyone else were falling all over the place but you had barely finished your –”

“Bartender!” Everyone jumped as Werond twisted around and bellowed at the barkeep behind them. “We spilled a bunch, could we get another round?!”

Pavel looked down at his mug and nodded, as the barkeep jerked a thumb into the air, grabbing a pitcher of ale.

Serena rubbed a knuckle against her ear as the he refilled everyone’s mugs.

“ _Did you have to scream that?”_ she asked, waving him away. Werond grinned nervously.

“Ah, yeah, mistake. Didn’t need to be that loud, huh.”

Serena nodded, and tipped back the last of her ale. As she did, a motion by the door of the tavern caught her eye.

Lord Zultan, his white hair matted with sweat, leaned halfway through the door frame, looking around. Eyes snapping to her, the Lord flashed a sign – one of the few Drow signs that she knew.

_Tonight?_

He pointed a finger at her.

_Wagon?_

Serena stared at the Drow, frowning.

After a moment, she nodded.

Zultan mimicked her before withdrawing, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Serena poked Werond with her elbow, causing her to jump.

“ _Hey, I need to go find a bush.”_

“Oh, sure, sure,” Werond said, scooting out of the bench and standing up. “You want me to come with you?”

Serena stood from bench and paused. Pavel waved his mug behind them.

“Hey! Where you two going?” He asked, “Don’t leave me here alone with Mr. Grumpy Feathers.”

Serena grinned. If looks could kill.

“ _Need to pee Pavel, Werond’s coming with me.”_ Serena signed.

“Oh, yeah, that pair thing that women do, sure.” Pavel downed more ale, slamming the mug on the table. “Well, we’ll be here when you get back!”

“Speak for yourself.” Cruck’aa muttered.

“Alright,” Werond said, as they made their way towards the entrance. “I don’t suppose you saw any good trees on the way over, huh?”

“ _Actually, I don’t have to pee.”_ Serena signed, pushing open the door and stepping out into the chilly night. Zultan was nowhere to be seen. “ _But I will need you for something else.”_

Werond cocked her head, eyes narrowed, half a smile upon her lips. “Uh…what did you need me for?” she said slowly.

“ _I need to talk to Lord Zultan.”_

“Oh.” Werond said, face returning to normal. “ _Oh._ ”

“ _I know you don’t like him, but I need to…talk with him.”_

“Do I need to say anything?”

“ _Not if you don’t want to.”_

“Then we’re fine. I’ll back you up, make sure he doesn’t fuck with you.”

“ _Thanks, Werond.”_

“Well,” Pavel said, draining the last of his mug. “what do we talk about now?”

“Perhaps the fact that Serena is constantly being distracted by her employee.” Cruck’aa said, eyes half closed.

“What? You still going on about that? Serena can make friends, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Cruck’aa’s eyes snapped open, and he twisted his head towards Pavel. A small shiver went down his back, as the giant bird of prey stared intently at him.

“They are not _just_ friends Pavel. Werond’s been making sure of that.”

“How do you figure?”

As Cruck’aa opened his break, his head snapped to the front of their table.

A small woman, shorter than Serena, had halted in front of their booth. A deep scowl was painted across her face, and she stood with an air that demanded attention.

She placed her hands on the table, leaning forward; her grey cloak split, revealing studded leather armor, and a long, worn rapier strapped to her hip. The hood from her cloak had been pulled back, highlighting her blond hair and pointed ears.

“Any room on that caravan of yours?” The woman asked; her voice was firm, and something familiar within it caught Pavel’s attention.

He leaned back in the bench, his jovialness pushed away.

“Lot of room left. If you can afford the fee.” Pavel said, eyeing the woman coolly

The elf narrowed her eyes. “I can afford it. But I don’t want to pay it.”

“Don’t know why we’re having this conversation then. Pretty firm on that fee ma’am.”

The woman grinned, white teeth flashing like fangs.

“Been awhile since anyone’s called me ‘ma’am’. Not since my marching days.”

Pavel grinned back. That’s what it was. “Had you figured for a military gal. The no bullshit attitude you got going on tipped that off.”

“How the hell did you know that?” Cruck’aa asked, glancing between the pair.

The woman shook her head.

“You’re perceptive. So then, the barmaids that wanted on, notice anything odd about them?” she asked.

Pavel frowned, and twisted around in his seat, only to find that the pair of women were gone.

“Don’t think so.” He said, twisting back.

“Well for one, they don’t work here,” the elf said, straightening up and crossing her arms. “don’t have the same uniforms. And two, you pissed them right the fuck off. Could see it from halfway across the room. They had a nasty look in their eyes when they left. I’d watch out for them if I were you.”

Pavel narrowed his eyes. The woman shrugged.

“Lot of talk, I know. But those two aren’t good news. If you live through tonight, keep me in mind. We’ll call it a trade, me saving your life in exchange for a spot on the caravan.”

The woman turned on her heel and marched towards and out the door. Pavel held his gaze where the woman had been, as Cruck’aa looked between him and the door.

“The hell was that all about?” the Aarakocra asked.

Pavel shrugged.

“Don’t know. Sounds like bullshit to me.”


	10. Overnight Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite piece; I originally wanted to post everything as one giant chapter, but I'm having issues trying to get everything written out.   
> Ah well, one more chapter and this section in the story is done!

A small clearing next to the town was set aside for visiting caravans and wagon trains, allowing camps and accommodations to be set up comfortably, rather than on the side of the road. Every teamster had taken advantage of this rare occasion; wagons were parked haphazardly, each one vying for enough space to have a sense of privacy for once. Fortunately, Werond had managed to fight her way to a spot near the back, some distance away from the rest of the caravan.

Many of the wagon owners had opted to spend the night on the town and finally sleep in a real bed, much to the chagrin of the teamsters, who were stuck guarding supplies and merchandise. By the time Werond and Serena arrived at the entrance of the clearing, many of those stuck at their wagons had fallen asleep, with only a few still warming their feet by the fires that dotted the clearing.

“Any idea where he’d be?” Werond whispered, casting a glance towards the clearing’s edge; the Zultan had parked their carriage on one of the furthest sides of the clearing, with every teamster had given them a wide berth. 

“ _He said my wagon.”_ Serena signed back.

Werond raised a finger to her lips, only to drop it. “Well, I guess they can’t hear you, huh?”

“ _Yup!”_ Serena exclaimed. Werond grinned _._

The woods around the clearing stretched out the furthest behind their wagon; the light from the fires was unable to reach deeply within them, causing dark shadows to dance about the trees.

A shiver went down her spine; Serena knew that nothing worth being frightened of lived in those trees, yet that old, childlike fear still remained.

As they approached their wagon, Lord Zultan stepped out from behind a tree, appearing like a villain out of an old storybook that Serena’s mother had once read. He had ditched his typical red dress attire for a simple pair of tunic and pants, though they appeared worse for wear.

“I don’t remember,” Lord Zultan said, brushing his hair behind his ears. “agreeing to meet with your teamster as well.”

“ _Anything you can tell me, Werond can hear too.”_ Serena signed.

Zultan sniffed. From the side, Werond sneered at the Drow.

“Well, I suppose I don’t have much room to argue. Suit yourself.”

“Pretty smart choice, especially for an _animal abuser_.” Werond said. Serena shot her a look, one that Werond ignored.

“Yes, well…one has to have _some_ modicum of sensibility to even reach the surface.” His chest deflated. “Though I suppose I lost that the minute I married that woman.”

“ _Self-inflicted wound.”_

“One that I’ll never hear the end of.”

Werond glanced at Serena. “Did you come here to talk about how terrible his life is?”

Serena shook her head and signed, “ _Zultan claims he knows my family – well, the Drow side of it. I don’t know anything about them, so he offered to fill in the gaps.”_

“Riiiiight. And what does he get out of it?”

“ _My help, when he ditches his lovely wife.”_

“You’ve got the balls to do that?”

“Ladies!” Lord Zultan shushed them. “Please, let us discuss this somewhere private! I looked ahead and found a small clearing, somewhat in the woods. May we talk there?”

Serena and Werond stared at the Drow.

Zultan stared back.

After a moment, he began shifting his weight from one foot to the next.

“I uh…” he said slowly. “suppose that…that sounds a bit ridiculous, asking it aloud. My apologies.”

Werond shook her head, muttering something about men.

“ _We can talk in our wagon.”_ Serena signed. “ _Werond can keep a lookout for your wife and scream if you do something stupid. Deal?”_

“Fine.” Lord Zultan nodded, gesturing to her wagon. “After you.”

The three of them clambered into the back, one after another; Werond went in first, coming out the front and laying sideways on the bench, pushing the flaps aside so that she could see into the wagon. Serena seated herself on her pile of silk, while Zultan sat near the back, well away from them.

It had already occurred to Serena that everything Lord Zultan would tell her tonight would be unreliable. She had already let loose that she knew nothing about her Drow side of the family, and it wouldn’t be particularly difficult to make everything up.

Still, it was worth the trouble. Even if the faintest of details was revealed about that, however many years ago, the discussion would be worth it. 

“We should be alright.” Zultan said, shifting about until he was comfortable. “The Lady is asleep within the carriage, and our teamsters hold no loyalty to her. Still, I appreciate you keeping an eye out.” He nodded towards Werond, who gave him a grunt.

“Now,” he said, spreading out his hands. “where should I start? House Lash has quite a bit of history behind –”

“ _You can start by proving you actually know what you’re talking about.”_ Serena cut in.

“Ah yes, that would be the most sensible. Well…are you aware of the details of your birth?”

“ _What do you mean?”_

“It’s as I asked, are you aware of how you were born?”

“ _Yes.”_

“Well, I am too. Or, at least, I’ve heard about your birth. Perhaps that would be enough?”

Serena nodded. Her mother had filled in the details as best she could, given that Serena was almost six when she asked. Ned, having asked himself long before she could walk, had filled in the gaps much later.

“Well from what I remember, your birth was _quite_ the event. Relations with house slaves was not uncommon – everyone participated in them – but to keep the child? I mean nothing when I say this, but had you been born to any other family, you would have been murdered the moment you arrived into this world. From what I understand, House Lash didn’t care for half-breeds; they saw them as just another tool, albeit ‘disabled’ in their eyes, lacking full Drow ancestry. The matron mother, Venveil, held no qualms with keeping you, but you’d have been a piece in…well, all those political games that we love to spin. And back-breaking labor, of course. Vorn, your father, didn’t like that. Always was a soft one. So, he left; took your mother with him and fled the Underdark. I haven’t the faintest idea what happened afterwards, but Venveil didn’t seem to care much, she had much larger issues do deal with. Nor the rest of the house, for that matter, although some were saddened to see him leave.” Lord Zultan paused, scratching his chin. “Does that…fall in line with what you know?”

“ _Ah…”_ Serena signed slowly, staring off above Zultan’s head. “ _yeah, that’s…about right.”_

She had heard the same story before, once from her mother, and multiple times from Ned. That House Lash, surprised at one of their members fathering a half-breed, planned on using Serena and her mother as continued labor. Lord Zultan’s story lined up, and yet…

“ _Mom and Ned both said what you said, about keeping me. But Dad didn’t just leave because I was born, there were people chasing him. Some people, or someone I guess, wanted him dead. Was that…Venveil?”_

“Oh no, Venveil wouldn’t want Vorn dead. From what I heard, your birth angered her greatly, but she never wanted to kill either of you. No one from House Lash did. Not out of sympathy or pity, mind you. No one truly cared, as you’d end up being another source of labor. As to who _would_ want Vorn dead…I imagine it could be anyone from the other houses. The Do’Ates despise your house, but they were mostly wiped out in their last skirmish. I doubt they’d send out assassins or the sort.” Zultan shrugged. “I wish I could tell you. I honestly haven’t a clue. That’s new information to me, that he’s being chased.”

“ _Huh.”_ Was the only word Serena could sign.

For most of her life she had struggled with being removed from her mother’s tiny inn, up in Mirabar. And try as she might, Serena never seemed to come close to uncovering _why_ she was forced to leave. Her father was being chased, that much was certain. But by who? Who would want her father dead enough to force her to leave? 

She was under no pretense that she’d receive that answer tonight. And yet, part of her still clung to a small hope that she would.

Lord Zultan cleared his throat. Serena snapped her attention back to him.

“ _Sorry, I…thinking things over.”_

“Of course, of course.” The Lord said. “Now, while I can’t help you further on that…is there anything else you’d like to know? I want to ensure that our deal remains in place.”

Serena rolled her eyes. “ _Yeah yeah, I’m not planning on going back on it.”_

“Just being safe.”

Serena raised her hands, then dropped them.

Fidgeting, she ran a hand down the ponytail of hair that lay against her chest.

Werond clucked her tongue. “Spit it out, boss.”

“ _Can you tell me about Dad?”_ Serena blurted out. “ _It sounds like you know him…or of him, I guess.”_

Lord Zultan cocked an eyebrow, then nodded.

“I suppose I could. What did you want to know?”

“ _I uh…well, as much as you know.”_ Serena shifted about. “ _Dad wasn’t really…there all the time.”_

“Hey, don’t feel embarrassed,” Werond said, glancing into the wagon. “my dad wasn’t there too.”

Serena shot another look at Werond, who turned back towards the clearing, chuckling quietly.

“Well…hmm, where to begin?” Zultan asked, staring up at the wagon cover. “I know that your mother met him young. They were both young…and stupid. Perhaps that’s why they fell in love.”

“ _I know that. Mom had me early.”_

“How young was she?”

“ _Uhm…she’s forty-three now. So…twenty-three?”_

“I see. I believe Vorn was somewhat older, but only by a couple of years. Well, for a Drow.”

“ _I don’t –”_

“Wait!” Werond exclaimed, twisting to fully face the pair. “You’re only twenty?!”

Serena glanced at her in confusion. “ _Yeah. Just had my birthday a couple months ago.”_

Werond stared with wide eyes. She turned back and leaned against the armrest of the bench, gazing off into the forest; on one hand, she counted to seven and grimaced.

“ _Anyways,”_ Serena signed to Lord Zultan. “ _I know Dad was young for a Drow back then. What was…what was he like?”_

“A helpless romantic.” Zultan grinned as Serena narrowed her eyes, a first for him. “It’s the truth. He truly was the black sheep of the family, well before he had you. There were two aspects that I noticed about him, from the moment I began work with the Lash family. One,” Zultan raised one boney finger, “he was quiet. And two,” another finger, “he did not agree with how business was run. Venveil – as I’m sure you’ve guessed – held a practical view of the world. Ironically, this made her more merciful then say, any other house. But that didn’t mean she refused to push slaves and workers to their limits, trying to squeeze every ounce of work out of them. Vorn didn’t agree with that. Yes, he went on raids and enslaved surface dwellers. Yes, he forced them to work. But Vorn held a very backwards view, in that he believed that kindness and generosity went a long way with the slaves. His set of slaves were always well rested, always well fed, much to the disappointment of Venveil. This made him…well, quite the outcast. “Kindness goes a long way”, he used to say.” Zultan smirked. “Didn’t do him much good.”

“ _How so?”_

“Venveil didn’t agree. She –”

“Ah fuck,” Werond said quietly, waving a hand at the pair. “that _bitch_ just stepped out of your carriage.”

“Then it’s time I leave.” Lord Zultan said, immediately swinging his legs and hopping out of the wagon. “Though I haven’t the faintest clue why she’s up.”

“ _Wait!”_ Serena crawled towards him, wagon shaking as Werond hopped over the bench and climbed in. “ _You weren’t finished!”_

“And as much as I wish to continue, I do value my life. We’ll continue later, I promise.”

Zultan smiled, not unkindly, before giving a shallow bow.

Turning on his heel, he marched off into the trees, and disappeared from sight.

Serena remained where she was, shocked by how fast the Drow had disappeared. She tried to catch a glimpse of where Zultan had gone, as Werond crawled next to her, gazing out with her.

“Well that was quite the exit.” She said. “Have to say, he puts up a pretty good front if _that’s_ who he normally is.”

“ _I…”_ Serena leaned back on her knees. “ _I guess.”_

Werond glanced at her with a sympathetic smile. “Didn’t get what you wanted, huh?”

“ _No. I didn’t think I would but…I still hoped. Does that sound childish?”_

“Nope. The only thing childish about you is your age.” Werond reached over and messed up Serena’s hair. “To think that a kid was in charge of my pay this whole time!”

Serena slapped Werond’s hand away, suppressing a smile.

“ _Sure, make fun of the kid who can stop paying you!”_

“You wouldn’t do that, you’re too nice.”

“ _Watch me!”_

Werond laughed and crawled over to her pile of silk. “Well, I won’t push my luck.” She stretched out, grunting with effort. “I think I’m calling it. No point in going back to the bar.”

Serena followed suit, and flopped down on her own pile, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

“You’ll figure it out soon enough.” Werond said, pulling a thin sheet over herself.

Serena nodded, and hopped that Werond was right.


	11. New Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't a clue why I was so stuck on this tiny section, but I really hit a major writers block with it.  
> Ah well, done now I guess! Not my best work by any means but it will suffice.

Pavel jiggled on his feet, let out a sigh of relief, and pulled his pants up. He was on his third trip to water the bushes, and he picked the same each time. “Be consistent” his old mentor used to say.

Cruck’aa had turned in after Pavel’s fourth drink, spouting something about not being able to watch him drink poison anymore. While that was normal for the Aarakocra, Pavel couldn’t understand why he had decided to go back to the wagons. His boss was one of the only owners that stayed, and Cruck’aa had more than enough money to rent a room, like so many others had. Yet he refused, muttering something about abandoning his flock, leaving Pavel alone for the rest of the night.

Pavel was sad to see him go, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the solitude.

By the time Pavel had finished his seventh drink, he had had enough. The room he rented earlier called out to him, and Pavel eagerly looked forward to whatever accommodations the inn provided.

As he turned around – humming an old marching tune – two figures came out and around the front of the inn. A laughing fit seemed to consume them, as they leaned on one another for support, and as they drew near, Pavel recognized the pair.

“Hey!” he said, waving at Serena and Werond. “Took you two long enough! I’m just coming back myself! Although I think I’m turning in for the night.”

“Pavel!” Werond exclaimed, barely able to stand. “Pavel, you’re not going to _believe_ what Serena said about you.”

Pavel cocked his head, a small smile upon his lips.

“Well it’s gotta be funny,” he said, gesturing to the pair, “if you two can barely stand up.”

“She – she,” another fit of giggles consumed Werond, as they staggered forward. “I – can’t, tell him yourself!”

Serena opened her mouth and spoke, “I said you’re dumber than a sack of bricks!”

She clutched at Werond as she almost fell over, utterly consumed by laughter; Werond placed her hand on the side of the inn, supporting them both as more Werond came close to howling.

Pavel kicked some dirt, his chest a bit tight.

“I don’t see how that’s funny Serena, that’s pretty hurtful actually.”

“Y-you know what,” Serena could barely speak through her laughter, “you know what else is hurtful? Huh?”

“What?”

Werond’s face twisted into snarl.

She lunged towards Pavel, laughter forgotten, yanking a dagger from behind her belt.

Pavel jerked back.

The dagger missed his throat by inches.

“The hell?!” Pavel exclaimed. He patted his belt.

His heart shot into his throat; he’d left his swords in the inn.

Werond stumbled and caught herself, eyes filled with malice.

Serena cursed and pulled a dagger from her boot, advancing towards him.

“You really are stupider than a sack of bricks!” she sneered. “How dare you ignore –”

Serena screamed as arrow lodged itself between her shoulder blades. Werond twisted around, eyes wide.

The short elf from the inn, grey hood still pulled down, stood behind them, bow in hand, arrow at the ready.

She notched another arrow, taking aim at Werond.

Werond ducked and twisted, the arrow barely missed her.

She yelled in a language that Pavel couldn’t recognize, as she took off into the woods, Serena hot on her heels.

Pavel flattened himself against the inn and watched as the pair fled. He opened his mouth to call out to them, only to stop halfway.

Serena and Werond, now reaching the tree line, suddenly shifted, growing a foot taller in half a second; in another, their clothes melted away, revealing thick, grey skin. The pair shimmered as though they were underwater, and they dove behind the trees, out of sight.

Pavel could only stare.

“Doppelgangers.” The short elf said, stepping over to Pavel, as she scanned the trees. “Picked it up the moment they walked in.”

“How did you –” Pavel asked.

“Your elf friend speaks with her hands, not her mouth.” She gestured towards where the doppelgangers had fled. “The one playing her got it wrong. Why didn’t you recognize it?”

“I uh…uhm…” Pavel turned to face her. “So, I guess you made good on your deal, huh?”

“Guess so.” The elf replied. “Got a spot open?”

“I do now. Pavel Smith, captain of our little guard. And you are?”

“Johana Eagleton. Just call me Jo.”

“Well Jo, I think we’ll get along just fine…if you keep saving my life like that.”

Jo smirked.

“Might have to start charging, if that’s going to be a regular thing.”


	12. Guessing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might seem like an off chapter, but I've got one more to write before I have to start tackling the next big section. Wanted to get some minor details in before that.  
> As always, thank you for reading! I always appreciate it! I would love to hear some comments if anyone would like to leave some!

“Do you remember what Pavel said?”

“ _About what?”_

“About how much longer we’ve got left?”

Serena nodded.

“ _Yeah, said about a couple of days we’ll hit Daggerford, and after that, it’s about a week to Waterdeep.”_

“Ah.”

“ _Tired of doing nothing most days?”_

Werond snorted.

“Try a month. I hate this, feels like limbo.”

“ _Limbo?”_

“Don’t worry about it.”

Serena shrugged, and leaned back in the bench.

It had been only a day since the caravan had left the quaint dead-end town of…whatever its name was. Werond couldn’t remember.

One day, and already the caravan was back in its usual line down the Trade Way.

Wagons as far as the eye could see. Teamsters drifting off with nothing do to. To the left, grassy plains stretched for miles, and if Werond squinted, she swore she could make out the ocean. To the right, the thick trees of the Misty Woods stood tall, hiding gods know what among them.

Another day in which Werond prayed Serena would light _something_ on fire, just to cause a commotion.

A tall order, she presumed.

“ _You excited to get to Waterdeep?”_ Serena asked; her hands faced forward but she gazed out towards the woods.

Werond grimaced.

“Not really. I know how bored we’ve been, but I’ll take it over the hustle of the work back home.”

Serena glanced at her, a small smile upon her lips.

“ _Sounds like you hate your job.”_

“I do.”

Werond spoke with conviction; Serena faced towards her, frowning.

“ _That bad?”_

“Yes. My boss makes my life a living hell. Part of the reason why I like going on these trips. Can get away from it all; sometimes these trips are the only semblance of peace I can get.” Werond shifted about, unease spreading through her. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Let’s not ruin a perfectly good day.”

“ _Okay.”_ Serena signed; a trace of embarrassment flashed across her face, causing a pit to settle in Werond’s stomach. She hated telling Serena to drop topics, as chatty as she was, but any further and Werond knew she would lose it. On herself or Serena, she did not know.

Hoofbeats sounded from behind their wagon. The newest member of the caravan guard, an elven woman in a grey cloak, rode past them, traveling up towards the front.

Serena grabbed Werond’s shoulder and shook it, eyes wide.

“ _Get – attention – please!”_ she signed with one hand.

Werond rolled her eyes and shouted. “Ma’am! Ms. Grey on the horse!” She waved as the woman turned her head. “My associate would like a word with you!”

“ _Why did you say it like that?!”_ Serena signed closer to her chest, her voice coming out in a whisper inside Werond’s head; Werond smirked and watched as the guard turned her horse around. “ _You made it sound like I’m mad!”_

“Well boss, I think that’s your fault for being too shy to hail her.”

“ _I’m mute you b – oh hi there!”_ Serena flipped from anger to excitement as the guard came over; she flipped the horse around a second time and fell in with their wagon.

“Something I can help you with?” the guard asked. Her voice was low and rough, and something about it demanded Werond’s attention.

“ _Well, I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to say hi!”_ Serena said cheerfully. “ _I know everyone on the caravan, but you just got hired right? I’m Serena Lash.”_ She gave a tiny bow, as well as she could on the bench, “ _and this is my teamster, Werond…oh, I don’t actually know your last name Werond, I never asked.”_

“Torohar,” Werond said. “Werond Torohar, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet both of you.” The guard said evenly. “Johana Eagleton, although most people call me Jo.”

“ _Nice to meet you too Jo!”_ Serena cocked her head. “ _I hope you don’t mind me saying, but most people are…well, a little freaked out when they hear me talk.”_

“I heard back at in the inn…well, ‘heard’ you, I guess. Wasn’t really shocking, I’m used to telepathy.”

“ _Oh! Can you use magic?”_

“Nope. In my marching days we used it to get communications across. I was one of forward scouts, so I always had someone else in my head.”

Serena nodded, though her face twisted into a frown. 

Werond chuckled.

“She was in the military Serena.”

“ _Oh!”_ Serena exclaimed. “ _Didn’t know what you meant, sorry. Can I ask where you served?”_

“Sure.” Jo replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Wasn’t in an actual army though. Worked as a mercenary. Tempus’s Swords. Though they called themselves something else back then. Changed the name –”

“ _What?!”_ Serena exclaimed, causing Werond and Jo to jump. “ _Tempus’s Swords?! I know them! I’m friends with them! Well. Some of them!”_

“You are?” Werond asked; Jo echoed her question.

“ _Yeah! Back in Mirabar, they were helping with a terrorist problem!”_ Serena could barely sit still as she signed. “ _Do you know Max? Or Charlotte? Jurden? Oh!”_ She bit her bottom lip, as her cheeks became a faint rose color. “ _Do you know Morgan? Have you heard from her? What’s she doing these days?”_

“Uh, sorry to say, but I served about hundred years back. None of those names ring a bell.” Jo said.

Werond’s brows furrowed in confusion as Serena took it in stride. Jo didn’t look anywhere close to over a hundred years old…but what did she know. She still remembered believing Serena to be a full-blooded elf, a month back. 

“ _Oh, makes sense. What did you do in the company then? Can I ask?”_ Serena asked. 

“Forward scout, like I said. But the Captain always had me in negations. Got a knack for figuring people out.”

“ _Like lying?”_

“Lying, yeah. But just understanding who a person was, what they do, what _might_ they do. Helped us out quite a bit.”

“ _Wait, you can guess things about people?”_

“Not hard if you know how to look, yeah.”

_“Oh!”_ Serena straightened up. “ _Can you guess something about me?”_

Werond smirked and was about to inform Serena that they shouldn’t take up more of Jo’s time, when Jo nodded.

“Sure, nothing better to do.” She said.

Jo leaned back in the saddle and squinted at Serena. Her blue eyes flicked back and forth, up, and down, the corners of her mouth twitching.

She pointed a finger at Serena’s head.

“You’re a pyromancer,” Jo said confidently, “you asked if I used magic, like it was something you normally ask people, and your eyebrows have been singed, regrown, and singed again. Plus, the skin on your palms are slightly darker. Looks like you’ve burnt yourself a couple of times before getting the hand of flinging bolts of fire out.” 

Serena’s eyes grew wide; she grabbed Werond’s shoulder and shook it, glancing between her and Jo.

“Yes boss,” Werond said, brushing her hand away. “very exciting.”

“ _How did you do that?!”_ Serena exclaimed.

“Just something you pick up after a while.” Jo smirked and looked at Werond. “I can do you if –”

“No!” Werond blurted out; Jo blinked, as Serena leaned back, eyes still wide. “No, sorry, I’m okay. Besides, you probably need to get back to guarding the whole thing, caravan I mean, huh?”

“Probably.” Jo’s eyes narrowed a moment, before she straightened up in the saddle. “It was good meeting you both, Serena and Werond. I’ll see you soon.”

Jo urged her horse forward, gave a wave, and trotted up towards the front. Serena waved after her, before turning to Werond.

“ _What was that about?”_ she signed.

Werond shook her head.

“Never did like fortune-tellers. Er – I mean people who can ‘figure out’ things about you. Always rubbed me the wrong way.” She looked over at her boss, cutting off Serena’s next signs. “So, you know the company Jo worked with, huh?”

“ _Oh yeah! Tempus’s Swords! They were stationed in Mirabar when I lived up there. One of the…lieutenants? That the word? One of the guys in charge became a friend of my family. Nice people!”_

“They must be, if you like them so much.” Werond smirked. “Got a bit red when you asked about that Morgan person.”

Serena rolled her eyes, even as her cheeks became flushed. She launched into an explanation – stating that Morgan was another family friend. As Werond listened, she sucked in a deep breath, hoping her heart would quiet down.

She didn’t need Jo guessing things about her.


	13. Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot that this is supposed to have romance in it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

High above in the cloudless, inky sky, the moon shone brilliantly, watching over the slumbering members of the caravan – a benevolent goddess praying for their safety.

With a start, Serena caught herself just before drifting out of her saddle. Next to her, looking no worse for wear, Pavel grinned.

“Not used to guard duty, huh?”

“ _No…”_ Serena yawned, before rubbing her eyes. “ _I get why I’m up here…but I never stay up this late.”_

“Well, I’ll let you off. No need to force yourself to stay awake. You’ve been plenty of help all day today.”

“ _You sure you’ll be fine?”_

Pavel puffed out his chest, and despite her weariness, Serena couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah, used to do this all the time, back in the day. I’ll be fine!”

_“If you say so. Well, I’ll be off then. Goodnight.”_

“Goodnight Serena.” 

With a tug, Serena urged her horse around – one that was used to pull the wagon – and began the slow walk back.

The Trade Way had curved away from the western most part of the Swordcoast, bending and twisting to the east, putting them dangerously close to the Misty Woods. Of the riders that rode past the caravan, many spoke at length regarding the numerous orc raiders that seemed to be filtering into the woods, posing problems to traders and travelers alike. Something had been pushing them out of their normal raiding grounds, forcing them to settle for pickings further down the Trade Way. This meant that the orcs staged much of their raids from the Misty Woods itself, and with the dark trees only paces away from the caravan, Pavel had made abundantly clear that no orc would set foot near the caravan, so long as he was captain of their guard.

A twenty-four-hour watch had been implemented until the caravan was safely away from the woods – some days away – involving every person able to lift a sword, fire an arrow, or sling a spell to rotate shifts around the caravan. This meant that there wasn’t a single opening anywhere around the perimeter, something that made every teamster and wagon owner happy…while grating the nerves of every able-bodied fighter. Serena included.

For the past two days, Serena had rotated from the back of the caravan, all the way to the front, back again, then to the front once more. All while working with less than her normal amount of sleep. Today had been especially brutal, with most of her work spent under the sun, and not a moment to lie down in her wagon.

Had Serena dragged a finger across her arm, she’d have been sure a thick lay of grime would come away, like dust off the windowsills back home.

A cold breeze picked up, flipping her hair about, and causing her to shudder. The day had been unnaturally windy – the only respite from the sun - and well into the night, it seemed nowhere close to stopping. Serena’s hair had slipped out of its normal low pony tail some time ago, now laying in a mess of tangles across her shoulders. She hadn’t the patience to fix it. 

With a silent grumble, Serena cupped her hands; a small, bright flame flared to life between her palms, sending a bit of warmth through her chest.

A wave of lethargy washed over her; she grimaced, and dropped the flame, surrendering to the cold night air.

She tugged at the reins, urging the horse faster; the beast would not respond, seemingly as tired as its rider. With a small smile, Serena patted her horse on the neck, unable to blame him.

Each wagon lay in its usual position, parked off the side of the dirt road. Not a single light emanated from the canvas coverings, indicating to Serena just how late it was. 

Loneliness tugged at her chest. Serena knew that she wasn’t alone; everyone she loved to see was asleep in their wagons. Yet riding alone at the dead of night stirred something inside of her. Memories of her time alone, on distant roads, well behind the Trade Way.

Serena shook her head, dizziness washing over her; she didn’t want to remember those nights.

As her horse approached the halfway point of the wagon line – a point she knew, as the Zultan’s carriage was parked there – a familiar figure crept out from behind the carriage, and into the road.

Her horse halted, nostrils flared, ears back, as both it and its rider recognized who stood in front of them.

Serena sighed. “ _I don’t appreciate you scaring my horse.”_

“Well,” Lord Zultan replied, dark eyes narrowed; his usual red dress attire had been discarded for another ratty pair of tunic and work pants, giving him the appearance of a farmhand than that of a Drow noble. “I don’t appreciate Pavel sending you off alone at night. Does he believe there isn’t a chance that the orcs could jump a lone girl?”

“ _I can take care of myself damnit.”_

“And I am aware. Yet I worry for you, alone in the dark.”

“ _Oh my – I can see in the dark Zultan,”_ Serena signed angrily. “ _it’s not a problem!”_

“You act like I am unable to be concerned for my – ” Zultan coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “business partner, Serena. Should something happen to you, I am…well, fucked.” He gestured towards the reins. “May I escort you back? I have no qualms with leading the horse if you’re –”

“ _No.”_ Serena signed. “ _I’m fine. Thanks.”_

“I insist.”

“ _And I said no. I don’t know what consent looks like to you, but no means no, damnit.”_

“Then I shall walk behind you. You won’t know I’m here.”

“ _For gods – fine!”_ Serena tugged at the reins, urging the nervous horse around the Drow. “ _But I’m not slowing down.”_

“I expect nothing less.” Lord Zultan said, falling in behind her.

Frustration welled up in her chest, but Serena hadn’t the energy to pursue it. She’d have spat fire at the Drow, and yet, tonight, the only thing on her mind was the pile of silks that awaited her in the wagon.

She hated herself for it. Her mother had always warned about people like Zultan, refusing to listen to anything she said. To anything anyone said. Those types of men existed everywhere within their inn when Serena was younger, and never once did she see her mother put up with them. But tonight, try as she might, Serena couldn’t muster the energy to argue with the stubborn Drow. And unlike her mother, she couldn’t just kick him out a door. 

Serena glanced back; Lord Zultan walked with a straight back, hands clasped behind him, staring straight ahead. Occasionally, his red eyes flicked about, no doubt watching the tree line and wagons alike.

She supposed it was fine, this time. So long as the Drow kept his mouth shut.

“Have you ever been to the Underdark, Serena?” The Drow unfortunately asked.

With a grimace, and one hand, she signed “ _No.”_

“I see. Well, I would be lying if I were to recommend it. Even in Menzoberranzan. Must say, I quite despise the place.”

“ _Hm.”_

“Though I must say, I don’t particularly like the surface either. Much too bright.”

“ _So where would you go then?”_ Serena asked, humoring the Drow.

Lord Zultan was silent for a moment.

“I don’t know.” Honesty in his voice. “Perhaps the one place I’d be most comfortable isn’t of this world.”

“ _Like death then.”_

“Perhaps. One day.”

As Zultan finished, the pair approached the wagon.

Serena hopped off her horse and moved to secure it back in place.

“ _See?”_ She signed. “ _I was fine.”_

“Of course, of course.” Zultan said, still standing distance away. “Can’t be too sure.”

“ _Uh huh.”_ was all Serena could sign, as she affixed the harness as Werond showed her.

“I see that you wish to be rid of me. I’ll grant that wish.” Zultan bowed. “Have a pleasant night Serena.”

“ _Yup.”_ She signed. Zultan nodded; he turned on his heel and began the trek back up the road.

As Serena finished cinching the harness back in place – stroking the horse’s neck – she watched Zultan retreat into the distance, before turning sharping to his carriage.

She couldn’t figure him out.

With a shrug, she gave the horse one last pat, before walking around the wagon, and climbing into the back. 

As she did – silk pile calling to her – she realized that Werond’s pile was empty. Instead, her teamster was leaning against the far end of the wagon, knees pulled to her chest, one hand tucked under her chin.

An opened bottle of wine was clutched in the other. 

“ _Werond?”_ Serena signed, knocking against the wood. 

Werond looked up, squinting. 

“That you boss?” Werond asked, voice still clear. “can’t see you.”

Serena waved a hand, casting a dull, blue light into the canvas covering. Werond blinked as her eyes adjusted; her face was flushed, but she didn’t appear as gone as last time.

“ _Are you drinking by yourself?”_ Serena signed, crawling over to her pile of silks, and ripping off her boots. 

“I mean…yeah. Not getting drunk though.” Werond waved a hand. “I was waiting for you, but I didn’t know when you were getting back. Thought I might do _something_ to pass the time.”

“ _And something is to drink?”_

Werond shrugged; she looked over Serena and pursed her lips.

“You look like shit darling. Hard work tonight?”

Serena shifted on her silks, eyes flicking to the floor.

“ _No, just terrible weather. Haven’t had a chance to relax.”_

“Gonna clean up? Smell kinda bad.” 

“ _No, I’m exhausted.”_

“You should.” Werond gestured with the bottle at her. “Don’t go to bed with tangled hair, it’ll be a bitch to fix in the morning.”

Serena sighed.

“ _Werond, I don’t care right now, I just wanna –”_

“Okay but I do,” Werond said, shoving the bottle in a corner. “cuz you’re gonna wake up tomorrow and bitch up a storm and I don’t wanna hear it. Let me untangle it.”

Werond crawled over to her, still steady on all fours. Serena stuck a foot out, holding Werond at bay.

“ _Hey, I’m fine, I’ll deal with it!”_ She signed, pushing back as Werond tried moving around her foot.

“No, you won’t be, and I ain’t listening to you!”

Werond grabbed her ankle in a vice grip, and yanked Serena towards her.

Serena yelped and fell onto her back, feeling heat rise in her face as she did. 

“ _Hey! Let go!”_ she yelled, heart suddenly hammering.

Werond grinned and grabbed her thighs.

With a flick, she spun Serena around – easily accomplished on the silks – and pulled her into a seated position, fabric bunched up underneath her.

“Yell at me tomorrow,” Werond said, scooting closer. “but you’ll thank me for this.”

Before she could move, Werond grabbed Serena’s shoulders, pushing down slightly, making a point: even intoxicated, she was still stronger than her.

Serena slumped forward, accepting defeat.

“ _Why does no one listen to me?”_

“Because some of us know what’s best for you.”

“ _That’s fucking bullshit.”_

Werond giggled.

“Sorry darling. Gets better when you’re older. Now, let’s see what I can do about this mess.” 

“ _Just…please be careful.”_ Serena signed, straightening up.

“I will darling.”

“ _No Werond, seriously.”_ She twisted her head, fixing an eye on her smiling teamster. “ _I don’t let people mess with my hair.”_

“How come?”

“ _It’s – I…”_ Serena turned back around. “ _Sensitive, I guess. My head. Okay?”_

“Your head is sensitive? How?”

“ _I don’t know Werond!”_ Serena exclaimed, sweat forming on her back. “ _Just, please be mindful.”_

“Oh…of course, of course darling.” 

In a swift motion, Werond gathered Serena’s matted, tangled hair behind her, running it through her fingers.

She clucked her tongue and spoke quietly.

“Well see, I was right,” she said, her voice falling into that familiar husky tone. “this just won’t do. It’d be horrible getting this out tomorrow _darling_.”

Serena shivered.

Werond picked out a section of hair and began going over it – roots to ends – quickly at first, getting a feel for each knot and tangle between her fingers. After numerous strokes, she repeated the process, this time deliberate, pressing her thumb into the section – breaking apart tangles – smoothing out her hair. At times she’d stop, pulling the section in half when uncovering bothersome knots, gently pulling down and apart, untangling them like an old master. 

“Your hair is wonderful, honestly.” Werond said, untangling yet another knot. “How do you keep it like this? Well, not like _this,_ ” she tugged gently on a section. “generally, I mean.”

“ _Uhm…magic…I guess.”_ Serena said. Her signs came out slow, clunky, and she was unsure if it was from exhaustion or from Werond’s fingers.

“Well you must teach me your method sometime _darling_.”

Serena shivered again, not from the cold.

The frustration that pooled within her chest – from Zultan, from Werond - had melted away, leaving behind…something she couldn’t place her finger on.

When was the last time someone had combed her hair properly? Serena routinely did, but it was different when it was someone else. Not that she’d let others at her hair. Ned hadn’t been able to do it. Nor Bron. Not even Zas could comb it as delicately as she needed it. Delicately as Werond. As her mother.

Perhaps that’s what the feeling was. Werond brushed and untangled her hair with the same gentle strokes of Serena’s mother, the only one who could properly handle the task. As she moved from section to section, untangling each knot, flicking away shed hair, Serena felt that same warmth she did when her mother doted on her.

It was peaceful.

Soothing.

Something Serena wished would go on forever. 

Werond pulled slightly, untangling a particularly stubborn knot hard enough for Serena flinch, sharp pain stabbing in her head. 

As Serena raised her hands to assure that she was fine, Werond reached up – with both hands – and dug her nails into Serena’s scalp.

“Sorry, sorry,” she muttered, voice cooler than a mountain breeze. “I’ll be more careful.”

“ _It’s…”_ Serena said tremulously, shuddering in relief from an itch she never knew she had. “ _it’s…fine…you’re really…good at that.”_

“Think so?” Serena could almost hear Werond smirk. “I don’t get much practice these days.” She stopped and moved on to the next section. “I’m sure you’ve had better.”

“ _I meant…the scratching.”_

“Oh, I know darling. Want me to keep going?”

Serena closed her eyes, unable to respond.

The warmth that she felt had blossomed, spreading its fingers throughout her body. With each stroke it burned brighter, hotter, until not even the wind could cool it.

It was the same feeling as before. When Werond had attacked her.

Perhaps that was the wrong word. Serena hadn’t wanted it to stop, but nor did she want it to continue. She’d never felt something like that before, someone that close to her. But the excitement – that heat – it was too much. She hadn’t known what to do, if Werond had pressed further.

Another section complete, Werond dug her nails in and scratched deeper.

Serena’s eyes fluttered; she buried her hands into her lap, stifling herself.

“I know this feels good,” Werond said, breath tickling her ear. “but you’re enjoying this a bit too much. Got most of your hair…want more?”

Serena shivered. Hard.

She did want more.

More of Werond’s attention.

Her hands over her hair.

Shoulders.

Her body.

To be held as before, pulled in tight –

Fingers tracing every inch –

Dark face so close.

Too close.

Hear her rough voice.

Breath in ear.

Stoking that flame – 

Serena’s eyes snapped open, heart in her throat.

“ _H-hey Werond, I think…I want to call it.”_ Serena signed with shaky hands; the heat inside the wagon had suddenly become unbearable.

Werond angled her head around Serena’s shoulder.

Then dug her nails deeper.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.” She said, voice a murmur.

Serena shuddered; she tried to move her head away, only for Werond to follow.

“ _I…sleep, going to…”_ Serena signed desperately. “ _going – bed.”_

“Oh, of course.”

Werond stopped scratching.

A hollowness pierced Serena’s chest, part of her yearning for more.

“Here…let me – there.” Werond said. She laid a gentle hand on Serena’s shoulder.

Her heart slammed against her chest, body tensing around it. 

Gently, Werond pulled Serena down, guiding her head onto a makeshift pillow that she had made. A wave of lethargy washed over Serena as she did, sending a deep weariness throughout her body. 

“Long days,” Werond said quietly, pulling one of the loose silks over Serena. “deserve a little pampering, hmm?”

Serena – already half asleep – moved her hands to reply, only for Werond to push them down under the silk.

“It’s okay, no need to talk.” She whispered, sending another shiver down Serena’s spine. “I think that was a bit too much. But…”

With the back of her fingers, Werond stroked Serena’s flushed cheek.

“See how much fun you have when you give in, even just a bit…Ser–en–a Lash.”

Serena’s eyes refused to open. Her limbs refused to move. Her heart refused to quiet down.

Thoughts in her head, fingers on her cheek, Serena tried – and failed – to make sense of it all, until finally giving into her exhaustion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, in hindsight, I'm realizing that I end a lot of these with the POV falling asleep.


	14. Sidelined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When we started this campaign, we were using one of the pre-made modules, which is what the plot of the whole thing was. I have been focusing this story more around Serena and her relationship with Werond. Which, is what I want to focus on, but it does sideline this plot. While this issue will still be going on in the background, I doubt that it will be as important as it should be.   
> Ah well.

"Anything yet?”

“Nothing.”

Cruck’aa let out an annoyed trill, setting his soup bowl down on the log that he and Pavel sat on.

“Look Cruck’aa,” Pavel said around a mouthful of soup. “I can’t just search the man’s wagon. Even if I am the captain of the guard.”

“You could.”

“I can’t.”

“You could, but you worry about breaking his trust.”

Pavel swallowed, before gesturing into the air. “No Cruck’aa, I have no reason to search him. Larion hasn’t done anything wrong. I’d get into a massive amount of trouble.”

“With whom?” Cruck’aa asked, throwing another stick into the fire; despite its warmth, his feathers were still ruffled from the cold. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, next to the Misty Woods of all places. Larion gets mad and hates you, sure, but there isn’t anyone around who –”

“It’s not about who’s _currently_ here.” Pavel put his own soup bowl down; he lowered his voice and glanced around to the other campfires that dotted the grass field next to the Trade Way. “The caravan is financially backed by a number of merchants. When we get to Waterdeep, if Larion complains to those merchants, I can get thrown into a cell for randomly searching him. He would have more proof towards getting me arrested than I would searching his wagon.”

“Our contact gave us plenty of proof Pavel.” Cruck’aa said, eyes narrowed.

“Yes, by all means, tell him the Harpers suspect him of working with the cult. See how that goes.”

“Hmph.” The Aarakocra crossed his arms. “If you refuse to do this, then we must find another way to prove he’s working with them.”

Pavel stood up and began strapping back on his sword belt, having previously dropped it against the log.

“Get Serena to help you figure something out. With her magic, I’m sure –”

“No.” Cruck’aa waved a talon. “I consider her out. She’s too distracted.”

“Out?” Pavel hooked his thumbs into his belt. “What’d you mean?”

“Is it not obvious Pavel? Our resident pyromaniac spends too much time with her teamster to care about our mission.”

“I remember you moaning about that back in Simont.”

“Where?”

“Uh,” Pavel cocked his head. “The village where we picked Jo up? Does no one remember the name?”

“Why would I want to remember a shithole like that?” Cruck’aa shook his head. “Anyways, Serena’s teamster has been monopolizing all of her time. Those two are never alone and –”

“Well not recently.” Pavel placed a foot on the log and leaned against his leg, half plate clacking loudly against the still of the night. “Every time Werond tries to talk to Serena, Serena gets all red and runs off. Wonder what happened? Been happening for…what, past two days?”

“I don’t know Pavel,” Irritation laced Cruck’aa’s voice. “I’m just happy they’ve finally shut up. But how long will that last? By the time we reach Daggerford, Werond will have Serena in a room all to herself, and you think she’ll stay with us if that happens?”

Pavel stared at Cruck’aa, a blank look across his face.

“How does them sharing a room lead to Serena leaving us?”

“Because she’s seducing her Pavel!” Cruck’aa yelled, shrill voice echoing through the trees; he continued as Pavel waved frantically. “That’s all her teamster has been doing, buttering Serena up! And by the time we end up in Waterdeep, Serena will be ready to skip town with her!”

“Cruck’aa, shush!” Pavel said, gesturing to the woods. “Gods know what’s in there! And I don’t think that’ll happen. Serena was the one who said yes to this mission first, she’s just as committed as you are.”

“Then she should show it.”

“Oh man, something has ruffled your feathers tonight.” Pavel stepped off from the log, readjusting his belt. “Look, I’d love to keep talking, but I’ve got a meeting with all of the teamsters.”

Cruck’aa snorted.

“Perhaps then you could tell Serena’s teamster to back the Nine Hells off.”

“Uh huh, we’ll see about that. Good night Cruck’aa.”


	15. Thoughts

“Sure, let’s make the damned caravan move _now,_ ” Werond grumbled, pulling the thin sheet of silk tighter around her body. “wake the damned teamsters up _now,_ of all times.” She peered at the still dark horizon. “Who the _fuck_ gets up this early?”

One more day until they were away from the Misty Woods. One more day until they reached Daggerford. One more day until they could sleep in a real bed again.

At least, that’s what Pavel had said when he had gathered every teamster together the previous night and laid out that his plan to them. Just a bit further, he’d said, and they’d be home free all the way to Daggerford. It made sense then – to him, to everyone – to shove off early in the morning, giving them a head start past all the horrors that lurked within the woods.

No one had bothered to ask what early looked like to Pavel.

“I get it, I do,” Werond continued grumbling to herself. “but _this_ early? Gods, Pavel, no one’s _ever_ awake at this hour…maybe just you, you prick.” She glanced at the dark stretch of trees to her right. “I bet there’s nothing even in those damned trees, you absolute –”

Werond jumped as the flaps behind her flung open; Serena – wrapped similarly in her own silks – crawled over the backrest and plopped herself down in the bench.

“Gods boss,” Werond said. “scared the Nine Hells out of me.”

Serena replied, but in the dark, Werond could barely make out the signs; the voice in her heard came out faint, barely a whisper.

“Can’t see boss.” She said.

Serena’s head jerked back, a small O on her lips. With a quick flick of her wrist, a dull blue light appeared in the space between them, illuminating Serena’s hands. 

“ _Uhm,”_ Serena signed with one hand, stifling a silent yawn with another. “ _sorry. And sorry…for scaring you.”_

“S’all good, just…grumbling about things I shouldn’t be.” Werond grinned. “Probably fire me if you heard it.”

“ _I wouldn’t.”_

“Ah.”

Silence lapsed between the two, thicker than the early morning fog that filled the trees.

After a moment, Werond turned and looked at her boss.

“So, what brings you up here at this hour?”

Serena fidgeted on the bench. She pulled the silk over her head and hid her face from Werond. 

“ _I can’t keep you company?”_ She signed straight ahead. _“Especially when it’s this early?”_

“You can, and I’m grateful for it.” Werond cocked her head. “But you haven’t talked to me for two days. Longest that’s been. What’s up boss, something wrong?”

Serena remained still, hands in her lap, gaze on the wagon in front of them. Or the still dark horizon. Werond couldn’t tell.

Her hands began twitching, bouncing on her knees. Werond remained silent, knowing that this was one of those rare moments where Serena couldn’t find her words.

Perhaps rare wasn’t the right term for it anymore. Since the night Werond had combed out her hair, Serena had clammed up around her. A stark comparison to how she normally was; had Werond thrown a single word towards her, Serena would talk – sign – her ear off. But now, she couldn’t get more than three sentences out of her.

Werond knew why. Part of her was upset at herself. Perhaps she had gone too far that night with Serena. Perhaps she wasn’t the person Werond believed her to be. Which, she knew, wasn’t terrible. But the thought of missing out, on so much, made her heart ache.

Inwardly, she shrugged. That was life, she supposed. Nothing but missed connections.

“ _I…”_ Her attention snapped back to Serena. “ _I just was…thinking. Getting some things…straight in my head. I guess.”_

“Oh,” Werond said. “about what? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“ _I do.”_

“Okay. All good. I hope you got everything figured out.”

Serena turned towards Werond.

Her face was red, not the hard red as before, but softer this time – a rose under the pale moonlight. With soft eyes, she gazed at Werond a familiar gaze, one that she had only seen scarce few times in her life. 

“ _I think I did.”_ Her silvery voice seemed to pull Werond in. “ _But…I’ll tell you later. I want to let it sit and…be sure about it.”_

Werond nodded; the silk wrapped about her had become too warm, and she hoped that her own redness wasn’t apparent.

“ _I didn’t mean to be so quiet around you,”_ Serena continued; she paused to pull the silks tighter around her body; Werond forced her gaze away from the figure now revealed against the taunt fabric. “ _Just…sorry Werond. I hope you’re not mad at me.”_

“Oh!” Werond’s voice cracked as she waved a hand about. “No, no, not at all, no need to apologize. I could never be mad at you darling.”

Serena’s blush deepened before she turned away.

Her hands leapt to her hair, and she became slowly stroking the length that lay against her chest.

Werond turned away as well; there were no thoughts in her mind, save one. And she could not pursue it this early.

Or anytime soon, should they remain on the caravan for long. 

But when then?

Daggerford, perhaps?

She reached out – brushing Serena’s back – and laid an arm across the backrest of the bench.

Without a word – without a look – Serena straightened, and leaned slightly against her arm.

Werond grinned, just as the sun began to peak over the horizon.


	16. Until Daggerford

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus begins the next mega part of this whole thing. And by mega, I mean that it might take me sometime to finish each part. But it'll be worth it!  
> Thanks for all the support!

“Look, I know I didn’t explain it but –”

“No!” Werond exclaimed, shrugging off her silks dramatically. “You lost the chance to explain when you made us shove off before the sun was up!”

“But Werond –” Pavel stammered, only to be cut off by Werond’s hand.

“Serena, tell our dear _captain_ of the guard that I’m too pissed right now to talk with him.”

Serena grinned, and pulled her hands out from her makeshift silk robe.

As she did, voices pierced the air from further up the caravan, close to the front.

Pavel’s head snapped to their direction. Without a word, he urged his horse forward, and took off, leaving the pair in the dust. 

“Hey,” Werond said dejectedly. “I wasn’t done yelling at him.”

“ _What’s happening up there?”_ The silks fell from Serena’s shoulders as she stood up on the bench, craning her neck around the moving wagon in front. Even from her height, she could barely make out Pavel and the other guards riding next to the Zultans’ carriage. Off to the right, a figure was jogging alongside the wagon train, though she couldn’t make out who it was.

“Dunno but you best sit-down boss,” Werond tugged at Serena’s arm, pulling her back into the bench. “stay seated when the thing’s in motion.”

“ _Yeah, yeah_.” Serena signed, before wrapping the silks back around her. “ _We don’t seem to be stopping though. Must not be a huge problem.”_

“Maybe.” Werond said, returning her arm to the backrest. “Suppose we’ll figure out later.”

…

One last overnight stop along the Trade Way, and the caravan would finally be clear of the Misty Woods. Until then, another guard rotation kept watch as the wagons settled in for the night, only some paces away from the tree line. Serena thanked the gods above that she was not assigned for tonight’s rotation.

Gentle murmurs of conversation filled the food line as Serena and Werond waited their turns. Though the day had been long, many teamsters were excited about the prospect of real beds in the not so distant future. They stood behind Cruck’aa in the food line, though he paid them no heed; more animated than Serena had seen him for some time, Cruck’aa talked business with his employer, chattering on about the inadequate sizes of cages for the various birds. To his credit, Cruck’aa’s employer seemed to be taking his suggestion to heart, repeating each suggestion back to the Aarakocra as he made them.

Next to Serena, Werond rubbed her eyes as though she could scrub away the dark circles that seemed to live there. She looked as though a stiff breeze might blow her over. 

“ _Tired?”_ Serena asked as they moved forward. Werond nodded.

“Very. Wanna eat and call it, gods.” She gestured to Cruck’aa and lowed her voice. “Hey, does he not like me or something? I feel like he never talks to us anymore.”

Serena shrugged. “ _He’s always been prickly. I wouldn’t worry about it.”_

Werond shook her head but remained silent as they approached the front of the line. 

As they were served and stepped out of line, bowls of soup in hands – the only food they seemed to be served anymore – Serena noticed Pavel off to the side. Similar dark circles sat under his eyes, and his normal straight posture was replaced by a more slouched stance – the look of a man who could drop at any moment.

Serena nudged Werond and with one hand signed, “ _Meet – back – wagon.”_

Werond nodded and took the soup bowl from Serena. “Sounds good, see ya in a few.”

Serena nodded, and walked over to Pavel. Somehow, the light from the fires that dotted the wagon made Pavel appear even more haggard up close. She grimaced, knowing how many hours Pavel had been working recently. It had to have been taking a toll on him.

“ _Hey,”_ Serena signed. “ _how you’re doing?”_

“Oh you know…” Pavel said, adjusting his belt, a small but forced smile on his lips.

Serena cocked her head.

“ _I don’t. That’s why I’m asking. You look dead on your feet.”_

“Ah fair.” Pavel shifted his weight and adjusted his belt again. “Well, we had a…situation, I suppose, with the Zultans. Been dealing with it all day.”

“ _Oh,”_ A sense of unease seemed to settle in her bowels. “ _what happened?”_

“Well, the Lady booted the Lord from the wagon. He was jogging to catch up. Lady was just _laying_ into him.” Pavel grimaced. “Honestly, been awhile since I’ve heard that much verbal shit thrown someone’s way. Beats my old drill captains. She was threatening to kill him where he stood – er, walked I guess, and all the Lord could do was apologize over and over again. Went on for hours. Had to convince her to let him back on, but that was a while ago, but she’s been pissed since.” Pavel crossed his arms. “He’s got no stones in him.”

“ _Did she do anything to him?”_

“Beat him up a bit, yeah. Nothing new, just the usual bruises and marks from that lovely relationship. Slapped him pretty hard too.”

“ _Hmm.”_

Serena knew she shouldn’t be concerned, especially with someone like Lord Zultan. Whatever happened with him happened, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Nor did she care to do anything about it.

At least, that’s what Serena wanted to tell herself.

“ _You didn’t happen to see him when we stopped tonight, did you?”_ Serena signed, hoping her voice came off indifferent.

“Who, the Lord?” Pavel glanced up and scratched his chin. “I think he took off into the woods just as we stopped. I think, I’m not –”

“ _What?!”_ Serena exclaimed; Pavel almost jumped out of his skin. “ _How did he get past the guards?! You just let him walk off?!”_

“Why does everyone yell at me,” Pavel grumbled, rubbing his head. “Yes, he went into the Misty Woods Serena. I’m not too worried about him, he looks like he can handle himself. You try stopping him when the contract says not to touch those two.”

“ _So, after all that talk about being worried about what’s in those woods,”_ Serena waved a hand towards the trees. “ _you just let a member of the caravan walk right in?”_

“For someone like _him,_ yes.” Pavel replied, sincerity in his voice.

Serena’s hands twitched violently, letting loose a guttural sound through Pavel’s head. She spun on her heel and began marching toward the trees.

“I didn’t know you could make that sound!” Pavel yelled after her. Serena ignored him and marched off past the meal wagon.

It took Serena only a few seconds to walk past the wagons and stand before the dark trees; they lived up to their name, as a ominous mist hovered about the trees, concealing anything further than three feet in front of her.

One of the caravan guards – a tall woman who Serena had only spoken to once before – sat on her horse towards the edge of the woods, further down the caravan. She began to turn her horse around and ride to her, before Serena raised her hands, slightly higher than she normally did.

“ _All good!”_ she shouted. “ _Pavel said I could go!”_

The guard halted her horse, face twisting in thought. After a moment, she stuck a thumbs up towards Serena, and leaned back in the saddle again.

Serena turned away and rolled her eyes. None of the guards, save Pavel, were paid enough to investigate a claim like that. 

Serena raised her hand, focusing on the well of power within her. A bright flame sprung up from her palm, burning away the mist, darkness, and whatever childhood fear that still clung to the back of her mind.

Worry gnawed at her as she stepped into trees. She knew that Pavel and the guards were likely exaggerating whatever it was in the woods, but that didn’t change the fact that Serena hadn’t a clue how to find the Drow. It wasn’t as though she could yell his name.

Though if anyone had seen Lord Zultan, it was probably the guard. For a moment, Serena thought about going back and asking, but came to the conclusion that it would cause more problems than it was worth. 

She paused and took in her surroundings. With a glance behind her, Serena realized that, if Lord Zultan was somewhat smart, he wouldn’t go far enough in to lose sight of the caravan lights. Which, thanks to the mist, meant that he should be close.

Sucking in a deep breath, Serena focused on the already burning flame; it burned taller, wider, until the light shed in a large radius around her.

As she stepped forward, she swept it around, her head on a swivel, scanning the trees around her.

Nothing.

She cursed silently. Not for the first time did Serena wished she’d someway of screaming. Though if she had just listened to Ned –

“Serena?” A familiar voice called out from somewhere deeper in the woods.

Serena pivoted towards it and held the flame high, before finally locating the voice’s source.

Lord Zultan sat on the ground, leaned up against a tree, one leg tucked to his chest. As always, his usual dress attire had been swapped for another pair of dull brown work clothes, somehow rattier than the last pair.

A slap mark burned brightly against his cheek, emanating with a dull glow. He turned his head towards Serena, and as he did, she realized that he sat in a puddle of sweat. 

“ _Bahamut’s Teeth,”_ Serena signed; she released her focus on the flame, plunging the woods into darkness, before quickly flicking out a dull blue light over their heads. “ _you look like shit.”_

“By all means, tell me something I don’t know.” Zultan replied; his voice was thick with exhaustion, and Serena was surprised that he hadn’t nodded off. “What’re you doing here? The woods are dangerous –”

“ _For someone to be left alone in?”_ Serena signed, casting a hard look at the Drow.

Lord Zultan gave her a small smile.

“Fair.”

“ _What’d she do to you?”_

“Ancient Drow punishment, handed down to only the most trusted of priestesses.” He grinned as Serena stared at him. “You believe I am joking. Wish I was.”

“ _Can I at least heal it?”_

Zultan cocked his head. “Are you able to?”

“ _Yeah, I’m good for more than just lighting fires.”_ Serena crossed the distance and knelt beside the Drow. “ _But…isn’t she going to be mad? When she notices it’s gone?”_

“No, she knows I could heal it myself. She counts on that. In fact, why don’t I –”

She ignored his words and focused again, this time willing a different heat. Serena’s hand lit with a silver glow and she reached out and laid her palm – fingers curled in – against Zultan’s face. Immediately, steam began to rise as his skin warmed, shifted, and reknit itself back to its original form. The Drow grimaced and bit his tongue as he squeezed his eyes shut.

After a moment, the light and steam faded. Serena pulled her hand back and admired her handiwork. It was as though the slap had never occurred. 

“ _Sorry it hurts,”_ she signed, standing back up. “ _but people take it better if I don’t tell them.”_

“I suppose that is one way to do it.” Lord Zultan rubbed his cheek and flexed his jaw around. “Though I am surprised you could do it.”

“ _Again…”_

“I know, I know.” Zultan leapt to his feet and gestured towards the way Serena came. Serena wrinkled her nose as a thin stench of sweat wafted off him. “Now, we should probably get back to the caravan, afore some notice our absence.”

“ _Are you going to be okay?”_

Zultan paused. His eyes glazed over in thought, though to Serena, he looked ready to collapse where he stood.

“Right now? Perhaps.” He gestured again towards where the caravan was. “Please, let’s converse while we walk.”

Serena waved her hand; the blue light moved down and floated lazily just above her head. Zultan set off at a brisk pace, with Serena alongside him.

“Right now, perhaps,” Zultan repeated, ducking under a branch. “later though? I cannot say. My better half is becoming extremely short with me and my trips to avoid her. I make no attempt to disguise these flights, she knows about them. Regardless, her violence towards me has only grown during our trip. She falls into her rages and looks for something to lash out against, which often happens to be me. Tonight, has been the first in quite some time where she has been more violent than normal…and I feel as though if we don’t settle things soon, well…”

Zultan let his words hang in the air. Serena grimaced.

“ _Well, you’ve told me enough I suppose, if you need my help.”_

“Really? We’ve only talked once, don’t I –”

“ _Just,”_ Serena waved her hands, a guttural sound filling Zultan’s mind. “ _call it fine.”_

“Hmm. If you insist.”

The pair reached the edge of the tree line, the caravan some feet away. The lights from the torches that sporadically dotted the wagons shed enough light for Serena to flick away the ball over her head.

Zultan paused, standing just inside the shadows cast by the trees.

“I’m loathe to go back right now. Fear she isn’t asleep yet.” His eyes flicked to Serena, brows raised. She shook her head, causing him to grin. “Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“ _What’s the plan?”_ Serena signed, stepping closer. “ _If you’re fearing for yourself, we need to do something soon.”_

“Agreed. Well, how much longer till Daggerford?”

Serena scratched her head, glancing up.

“ _I think Pavel said we’d get there tomorrow morning. Or something close to that. Not too far out.”_

“Perfect.” Zultan leaned against a tree, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been thinking of multiple plans, and by far the only one to make sense to me is…to disappear. Daggerford would be just the place to aid me in such an endeavor.”

“ _How? And where would you go?”_

“How should be simple. One more slip, as I’ve always been doing, and I’d be free. She’s getting…irritated though, and I feel that tomorrow, she might not be as charitable to let me out of her sight. Perhaps that is where you would come in. Make a distraction of some sort.”

“ _I think she’d try to kill me if I bothered her again.”_

“True.” Zultan grinned. “But that’s what the guard is for, is it not?”

“ _No! It’s not!”_ Serena yelled, causing Zultan to flinch. “ _I don’t want to drag Pavel and the others in on this, it doesn’t concern them.”_

“Fair, fair.” Zultan said. “Well, have something cooked up then when we reach Daggerford then.”

Serena sighed; it sounded just like the Drow to leave the brunt of the problem on her shoulders. 

“ _Where do you even plan on going?”_ She asked.

“Mirabar.” Zultan replied without hesitation.

Serena’s heart leapt into her throat. Memories of years past flooded her mind, and a pit settled in her stomach.

“ _Uhm…can I ask why?”_

“I have –” Zultan coughed and scratched his neck. “Mirabar is the furthest place up north that I can think of that’s not the Spine. Should be a safe bet towards anyone trying to find me.”

“ _R-right,”_ Serena had heard just as much from her mother. “ _well, that’s…okay. Daggerford then. I’ll think of something. When should we plan for?”_

“Perhaps the night the caravan is about to leave.” Zultan replied. “That way she discovers what happened in the morning and has no time to wreak havoc on the local populace…as she used to enjoy.”

_“That doesn’t give us much time.”_

“No. But I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Serena sighed again and shook her head.

“ _Right. Fine. I’ll fill you in when I do. I’m heading back then. Stay safe.”_

“As much as I can.” Zultan said with a grin and a wave. He slinked back into the woods, and began his way up, no doubt towards his own carriage. Serena stood for a moment, watching his form disappear into the trees before she began making her own way back.

Serena hadn’t a clue as to why she was helping the Drow. Yes, she had made an agreement that she had no intention of backing out on, but Lord Zultan wasn’t the kind of person that Serena went out of her way to assist. Dumping the entire problem on her irritated Serena, but she understood; it couldn’t be easy to think of an escape plan when every day is a struggle to avoid abuse.

Perhaps that was why Serena was helping him. To remove him from the torment he suffered daily at the hands of his ‘better half’. Though to her, it seemed like a contradiction to help someone who so easily dished out abuse themselves. 

Maybe that wasn’t why then. Maybe she just wanted Zultan out of her life as fast as possible, and this way was the only way she saw fit to do so. The moment that he was gone, Serena knew that her life would improve.

She grimaced, then quickly smiled as she waved to the teamsters on Cruck’aa’s wagon as she walked by.

That wasn’t right to think. Despite how much she disliked him, Serena couldn’t let someone continue to suffer as Lord Zultan did. It just didn’t sit right with her. 

“Hey boss.” Werond said as Serena walked around and hoisted herself in the driver’s bench. Werond had been stretched across the bench but shifted to her normal spot when Serena was halfway up.

She reached down to her feet and lifted Serena’s now cold soup bowl. “I didn’t have much to keep the food hot. Sorry.”

Serena accepted the bowl with one hand, as a small flame burst to life in her other palm. She held it under the bowl and shot a smirk to Werond, who didn’t need to know that an open flame like that wasn’t needed to warm a bowl of food.

“You know, never thought about that, neat trick.” Werond said, leaning back in the wagon. “The elven stove.”

Serena giggled, extinguished the flame, and set the now steaming soup on the bench next to her. “ _Honestly, if I had my hands on a real stove, I could cook up something even better than this…soup, I guess.”_

“Dunno about that. Something happen, by the way? You’ve been talking to Pavel for a while.”

“ _Stopped talking with him, went into the woods to find Zultan.”_

Werond stared at Serena as though she’d grown a second head.

Serena rolled her eyes.

“ _I was fine. Fire, remember?”_

“I’m more surprised you went after _him.”_ Werond spit at the mention. “What he have to say? He the reason why we heard all that yelling?” 

“ _He’s…well, yes, his wife was abusing him again. And he thinks we’ll need to help him get away in Daggerford. Any time after and he might not live.”_

“There a problem with that?”

Serena rolled her eyes again. “ _Yes Werond, there’s something wrong with that. I’m not going to let him die. Much as I dislike him.”_

“Fine, fine.” Werond waved a hand. “Did he say what he’s doing afterwards.”

“ _He…he wants to head to Mirabar.”_

Werond straightened up, brows raised.

“Aren’t your parents in Mirabar? Oh,” she shook her head. “stupid question, that’s your hometown.”

“ _Yeah…he says it’s the furthest place up north as he can get, but…”_ Serena shifted about on the bench. “ _I don’t think it’s related, but I was still surprised when he said that.”_

“Yeah, seems odd. Well, not much you can do right now.” Werond leaned back again and laid her arm across the backrest. “Did he say _how_ he plans on getting out?”

Serena shook her head. “ _Nope. That’s on me to figure out. Not thinking about it tonight.”_ She picked up her soup – now cooled – and began sipping from it.

“Of course, that piece of shit throws it at you.” Werond grumbled; her arm slid down the backrest and laid across Serena’s shoulders. “Well, we’ll think of something. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out, right?”

Serena nodded, and hoped she was right.


	17. At Daggerford

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a little bit with this one. Found it super hard to write for some reason, but it's done now! Hope you enjoy it!

The sun had passed its zenith when the caravan rounded the corner, Misty Woods finally disappearing behind them.

As they did, vast swathes of grass stretched out before the caravan, mirroring the fields that they had seen all too often along the Trade Way. Flat as a well hammered sword, the plains seemed to go on for miles, until halting at another forest that appeared days away. Nothing broke up the landscape, save a river further ahead and the stone bridge that spanned across it.

And the town.

Serena’s eyes widened; she grasped the backrest and pushed herself up in a half crouch, then to her full height on the bench. Next to her, Werond clucked her tongue and grabbed her arm, but didn’t pull her back down.

The stone walls of Daggerford stood imposingly tall, jutting up from the fields around them. Even from a distance, Serena could make out the individual stone bricks that comprised the imposing grey façade, and her mind race to figure out just _what_ could have moved stones as huge as those. At each corner, a small tower protruded from the walls, it’s squarish shape and tall, triangular roofs appearing as something out of Serena’s old storybooks.

Somewhere in the middle of the walls flew the banner of Daggerford: a simple dagger laid out on worn brown tapestry that appeared massive, even at their distance. 

Serena fell back into the bench, her hands almost vibrating.

“ _Do you see it?!”_ she said. “ _It looks huge! I’ve never seen stone walls like that before! Holy –”_ her head flipped to Werond, and she scooted closer. “ _Have you seen inside it before? Can you imagine what it looks like? I bet there’s a castle in there and a bunch of taverns – oh, I wonder if they’re like Mom’s or if they run things differently – I’ll have to send a letter and tell them all about it I don’t think Mom or Dad have ever been this far before I bet they’d want to hear all about –”_

“Stop!” Werond yelled, clutching her head with one hand. “Holy hell, I can’t think when you talk like that!”

“ _Oh! Sorry!”_ Serena signed and shoved her hands into her lap. Even restrained, they seemed to twitch on their own.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m…happy you’re excited! I just…gods.” Werond shook her head like a dog shaking off water. “I’ve been once or twice, it’s kind of how you said. You’ll see for yourself here soon. Just…don’t expect Waterdeep.”

Serena nodded, barely able to sit still.

Werond frowned.

“Gods,” she mumbled. “if you freak out like _that,_ you might kill me when you see Waterdeep.” 

…

By the time the caravan had reached the front gate of Daggerford, the sun had begun to set, a glowing disk just under the horizon, sending a small chill through the air.

The grass fields in front of the town made an excellent staging area for the wagons; the caravan had pulled off to the side of the gate, front wagon leading the rest into a semi-circle, parked just in front of the moat.

Standing almost directly under the walls of Daggerford filled Serena with a sense of wonder. Aside from the low walls of Mirabar, she had never seen such an imposing structure up close before. Werond guffawed as Serena craned her head back, trying desperately to scan the tops of the walls, for anyone who might be up there. 

“Just walls, boss.” Werond said, exhaustion in her voice. “Not really that interesting.”

“ _To you!”_ Serena signed, unable to stand still. “ _I’ve never seen something this big before! Well, maybe Ned’s house, but still!”_

“Big house? He rich?”

“ _Yeah, but he’s an old dragon, so he needed the space. Not just for show!”_

Serena turned back towards the walls, missing the puzzled expression on Werond’s face. 

They, along with the other teamsters and owners, waited in front of their wagons, as Pavel escorted a town guard – a youth younger than Serena, leather armor one size too big – around the caravan. The boy had appeared out of the tall wooden doors that made up the town’s gates, informing them all in a shaky voice that he was to record each person down on the visitors’ log. Until he had everyone’s details, he had said, he couldn’t let anyone in Daggerford. Despite the chorus of grumbles and dissent, causing the boy to shake like a leaf in the wind, Pavel was all too happy to oblige. “Rules are rules!” Pavel had said, as he walked with him, rattling off startling accurate details about each wagon and the people within them; no one suspected that Pavel had memorized each wagons content and the names of everyone who rode on them.

By the time Pavel and the guard had gone over their wagon – the youth quickly unnerved by her signs – Serena refused to stand still.

“ _Hey, I know I asked already”_ Serena signed rapidly at Werond. “ _but tell me again, I want it memorized, what’s in like in the town?”_

“Boss I told you already,” Werond sighed. “told you everything I know.”

“ _Can I hear it again? You tell it so –”_

“No.”

“ _But…”_ Serena glanced around; her eyes landed on Cruck’aa and Jo, stuck in a deep conversation by Cruck’aa’s wagon. Serena jumped and beckoned them over, and signed with her other hand, “ _they – haven’t – heard!”_

Cruck’aa glanced towards them, eyes narrowed, before looking back to Jo; she was already on her way over, a look of relief across her face. The feathers around Cruck’aa’s head fluffed up and he followed hot on Jo’s heels.

“Oh gods…” Werond mumbled. “Why would you do that?”

“ _Well, if you didn’t want me to do that, maybe you should have spoken up.”_

“You little b –” Werond’s face snapped into a forced smile as the pair approached. “Hi you two!”

Jo nodded, and began to speak a greeting, before Cruck’aa cut her off, feathers still ruffled.

“What was so urgent that you needed to talk to us?” He asked, arms crossed, beak slightly up. “We were in the middle of an important conversation.”

Jo blinked, then scowled. “I don’t think the size of bird cages are that important.”

“Perhaps not to you, but to the birds within them –”

“Anyway!” Jo exclaimed, gesturing towards Werond and Serena. “What did you two want?”

“Oh, uhm…I wanted to ask if either of you’ve been in Daggerford before.” Werond said slowly; she shot a dirty look at Serena, who failed to suppress a smile.

“Why the hell,” Cruck’aa began, “would I subjugate myself to a shithole like Daggerford?”

“Uh, I’ve been here before,” Jo said, turning towards him. “it’s definitely not a shithole. Not like that last place. What was that town called?”

Three sets of shoulders shrugged. Jo chuckled and motioned for Werond to continue.

“Well,” she began. “Jo’s right, Daggerford is pretty nice actually. It’s laid out in two parts, uh…” Werond made a rectangle with her hands. “there’s the main part of the city, laid out kinda like a long box. Behind it, with more walls, there’s the castle, which I’ve never been in but…I hear it’s nice. And…” She yawned and rubbed her face. “Okay, honestly, there isn’t a point talking about it until we get in there. Serena just wanted to hear me talk about it again, sorry.”

Jo let out a _pfft_ as Cruck’aa rolled his eyes.

“ _Hey!”_ Serena exclaimed, feigning outrage. “ _Don’t throw me under the wagon like that!”_

_“_ Uh-huh,” Werond moved and placed her arm around Serena’s shoulders. “maybe speak up next time, huh?”

Heat blossomed within Serena’s chest. She pulled away from Werond’s arm.

“ _I’m mute, you know that!”_ Serena said, hoping her cheeks didn’t flush too much.

“And thank the gods, imagine if you could actually talk? I might –” Werond laughed as she sprung away from Serena, whose hands now crackled with light blue sparks.

“Would you act your age Serena!” Cruck’aa shouted, as she tried to close in on Werond. “The childish act is ridiculous!”

Serena turned back to the Aarakocra and gestured rudely at him, forming a curse in the minds of everyone around her. A curse that was far more colorful than it needed to be. 

A laugh ripped through Werond, and she doubled over as Cruck’aa seemingly puffed up larger than he was before. He opened his beak, retort in his throat, when a shrill yell interrupted him.

Some distance away, on the other side of the caravan, Lady Zultan – in a rare appearance - stood in front of her carriage. Her husband stood with her, hunched over and exhausted. The red dress that she’d worn before had been switched with a deep black, single shoulder dress, cinched tightly against her body, though her stark white hair was still pulled back into a ponytail.

One dark hand rested on the pommel of a silver sword that was strapped to her hip. With the other hand, Lady Zultan gestured wildly as she verbally laid into the poor guard from the city. Unrestrained fury filled her eyes as she screeched rapidly, taking one step closer to the guard each time he stepped back, his own eyes bugging out of his head. Pavel – palms out – stood to the side of the youth, pleading desperately – from what Serena could tell - for Lady Zultan to calm down, to no avail.

The entire caravan seemed frozen, gazes fixated on the spectacle in front of them. From their positions around the caravan, the guards began to slowly approach, forming a half circle around the Drow, somewhat blocking the view from where Serena stood.

“Ah fuck,” Jo said; she laid her hand on the rapier tied to her belt. “really? Going to make a scene now?”

“Uhm,” Werond straightened up. “should we do something?” she asked, glancing over at Serena.

She frowned. Serena wanted to help, to step in, but she knew that it would only draw the ire of Pavel if she interfered again. But from the look in the Lady’s eyes, perhaps it would be alright this time. 

“No, you all stay here,” Jo said. “I’ll go see if he needs help.”

As she spoke, Lord Zultan straightened up, a sudden fire in his eyes.

Serena’s heart jumped.

He spoke harshly to his better half, though what he said, Serena couldn’t hear. But from barely hidden fear that painted his face, it was clear that he spoke out of line. 

In one fluid motion – faster than Pavel could react – Lady Zultan spun on one heel, unsheathed her sword, and slashed upwards.

In one clean cut, the Lord’s right arm – from the elbow down – was sliced clean off and landed soundlessly on the grass next to him.

Lord Zultan screamed and dropped to the ground, blood spraying from the crimson wound.

The youth fainted, cheeks devoid of all color.

Wagon owners and teamsters closest let loose their own screams and began scrambling over one another in their attempts to flee.

Werond screamed; Cruck’aa’s eyes grew wide; Jo took off towards the mess; Serena could only look on in horror.

Others further away echoed the screams, a cacophony of revulsion and fear.

Many called for the Drow’s arrest, as the caravan guards rushed in, weapons out.

Lady Zultan began to advance on the downed Drow, sword poised to finish the job.

Pavel shoved his way past her, his own weapons out, and stood over Lord Zultan.

Panic arose in Serena and she took off after Jo, just steps behind.

Behind her, Werond and Cruck’aa yelled, their voices mixing into an unintelligible panic. 

Lady Zultan pointed her wet sword at Pavel. “I’ll have your head for that, _captain!_ Stay out of my affairs!”

Jo, finally caught up, halted further up than the other guards, her rapier aimed at the Lady’s neck.

At her brazen display, the rest of the caravan guards moved up. 

“Ma’am!” Pavel yelled back, as two guards moved to shield him from the Drow. “Ma’am, please! You can’t do this!”

“Alright lady,” Jo said, as the other guards began to encircle Lady Zultan. “I’ll ask that you lower the weapon. We can talk this out calmly.”

The Drow shot daggers at Jo, then at Serena, as she rushed past everyone and slide to a halt next to Lord Zultan.

It was a clean cut, made with sickening grace, as though this wasn’t the first removal Lady Zultan had made. Blood had begun to pool around him, soaking his clothes and the grass in a deep red. He pressed a crimson hand against the stump, a desperate attempt to staunch the bleeding.

He grimaced as Serena came into view.

“Don’t think I can convince you that I’m fine?” He asked, voice unsteady. The color had drained from his face, shifting his normal dark skin to a light purple.

Serena shook her head and removed his hand from the stump. His skin was clammy. Too much blood lost. 

“Well, asking doesn’t –” Zultan screamed in pain as Serena – hands aglow a bright silver – clutched at the stump. Steam rose as Zultan’s pale skin sizzled under the magic.

The wound had begun to glow, radiating a dull silver light, as the magic worked through it. Slowly, skin began to grow around the angry wound, pulling tightly together, until finally sealing the wound shut. Serena moved a hand and pressed it against the new formed flesh, flooding more light into it. Lord Zultan screamed again and pounded his only fist against the grass as Serena ensured the wound wouldn’t tear back open.

“Don’t you heal him girl!” Lady Zultan yelled from behind. “He needs to remember that lesson!”

“Lesson that you’re a raging –” one of the guards began to say, only to stop as Pavel smacked the flat of his sword against his back.

“Ma’am,” he said, sheathing his weapons. “I understand what the contract stipulates but I can’t have you injuring others like that. I –”

“You don’t get to dictate _anything_ to me!” The Drow screeched. “I will have you hanged for this breach, _captain!”_

“Ain’t she a fucking charmer.”

Serena looked up; Werond stood over her, still shaken, hands filled with odd scraps of silk.

“Not much,” she said quietly, kneeling beside Serena; she began using the silks to soak up the blood that covered Lord Zultan. “but it’s something, I guess.”

“ _Thanks.”_ She signed, accepting a piece to wipe the blood from Lord Zultan’s face.

“This is a _breach_ of the contract, I will have you all slaughtered for this!” Lady Zultan screamed. Serena shook her head and kept her focus on Lord Zultan. He’d make it, but he would need a proper healer, and soon. 

“Ma’am, I understand what the contract stipulates,” Pavel said in an exasperated voice. “but he’s still a caravan member. Members are forbidden from attacking other members, regardless of the contract.”

“It’s just plain rude.” Jo said.

A guard snickered behind Serena’s back.

A sudden chorus of shifting armor and unsheathing swords filled the air.

Serena sucked in a breath, refusing to look back; the Lady must have turned on Jo. 

“Alright, enough!” Pavel shouted. “No more comments! No one! Through the right given to me by the company’s charter, I am superseding your contract. I will be removing Lord Zultan from your carriage and take him under the caravan guard’s custody. You have shown yourself to be dangerous for his health and safety –”

“What?!” Lady Zultan screeched.

“– so, he will be under our protection until we reach our destination in Waterdeep. Do I make myself clear?” 

Serena glanced behind. She didn’t even know if what Pavel said was true. 

Each caravan guard had inched closer to the Drow, while Jo still held her rapier to her neck.

Lady Zultan shook with barely contained fury, though she remained silent.

After a moment, she nodded once towards Pavel.

“Okay, that’s settled. At ease!” Pavel said. Each guard relaxed, lowering their weapons, but remained where they stood. Jo backed up and sheathed her own blade. “Serena, Werond? Can you take Lord Zultan over to your wagon? Get him checked out? I’ll follow in a moment, I’ve got to go wake the kid up.” 

Werond glanced at Serena, then spoke up as she nodded.

“Sure Pavel, can do.”

After checking that his wound was sufficiently healed, Serena pulled Lord Zultan up into a sitting position, and wrapped her arm around his waist, with Werond following suit. Lord Zultan laid his arms around their shoulders, stifling a groan, and together, they hoisted the Drow up, and began guiding him towards their wagon.

“I appreciate the help ladies,” Zultan wheezed. “but I can walk on my own.”

“You lost too much, just collapse if we let go.” Werond grunted. “Wouldn’t mind seeing that though.” Serena shot her look.

As the three staggered past Pavel, Jo, and the other guards, who were now dispersing back to their normal positions, Serena glanced behind herself.

The fire in Lady Zultan’s eyes had died away, replaced with a cold fury leveled at Serena. A shiver ran up her spine, and she refocused on carrying Lord Zultan.

As they reached the wagon – Cruck’aa having fled to his own – they gently deposited Lord Zultan against one of the wagon wheels away from the horses. As they did, the resounding crack of a slammed carriage door echoed through the air.

Serena let loose a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. 

“Thank you, ladies,” Zultan said, clutching at the stump of his arm. “Don’t know what I’d do without you two.”

“You’d be dead.” Werond said flatly. She flinched as Serena smacked her in the arm. “You’re welcome, sorry.”

As Serena began to sign – to tell Werond off – Pavel and the poor guard from Daggerford strode up to them. Pavel looked grim, jaw taut, while the youth behind him looked ready to soil his work pants where he stood.

“Lord Zultan, sir,” Pavel began. “I must apologize for that. Had I reacted faster, none of this would have happened.” He bowed his head, surprising both Serena and Werond. “You have my deepest apologizes.”

Despite the obvious pain that the Drow was still in, Lord Zultan chuckled.

“Not your fault captain, I highly doubt you’d have been able to stop her. Fast, that one.” He straightened up against the wheel and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Though I do appreciate you removing me from that carriage. Wouldn’t want to go back there.” He glanced at Serena, small smile upon his lips. “Looks like our plans will go a bit quicker now, hm?”

Pavel cocked his head and glanced at Serena.

She sighed. No better time than now, she supposed.

“ _We were going to help him disappear,”_ she signed. “ _Daggerford seemed like the place to do it. Didn’t really…have a way to do it though. Wasn’t expecting…whatever that was. Once we get him in and find a better healer than me, he should be_ –”

“Uhm!” the youth squeaked. As everyone turned towards him, the color drained from his face again. “Sorry! I d-didn’t mean to interrupt, b-but Drow aren’t permitted in the city…” he cowered behind his scroll as eight pairs of eyes widened. “W-we’ve had i-issues in the p-past with them! T-they’ll fire me if –”

“ _What?!”_ Serena yelled; the youth jumped a foot off the ground. “ _Why does everyone hate Drow?! They’re not all the same! Just because you saw the worse doesn’t mean he’s going to do it too! Gods!”_ She waved her hands about, and as she did, small spouts of fire emitted from her palms. “ _I’m fucking half-Drow! You think I’ll half kill you!? Is that it?!”_

“Okay, well,” Werond came from behind and wrapped her arms around Serena, pulling her away from the guard. “you’re not doing yourself any favors with _that_.”

“I-I-I’m sorry ma’am!” the youth whimpered. “Rules are r-r-rules!” 

“It’s alright,” Pavel said, turning towards him. “we understand. Have you finished your census yet?”

The youth stammered, scroll shaking in his hands. “Y-y-yes sir, all a-a-accounted for!”

“Alright. Why don’t you head back and let them know we have some coming in for the night?”

The youth nodded. Then broke into a sprint towards the gate.

Pavel chuckled as he watched him run. “Kid’s out of his element.” He turned back towards the other three, looking pointedly at Lord Zultan. “Alright, so, fill me in. You’re planning out getting out?”

“If possible.” Lord Zultan said, leaning his head against the wheel. “Though from the sounds of it, it’ll be more difficult than we expected.”

“What was the original plan?”

Serena shrugged off Werond’s arms and signed, “ _There wasn’t one. I hadn’t gotten that far yet.”_

“Which is probably okay,” Werond said. “considering the hard part was done for us.”

“What do you mean?” Pavel asked.

“Serena – well, _we_ couldn’t figure out a way to separate the two love birds without pissing off the Lady. He’d been running off and she was getting mad…probably why he looked like shit all the time, no offense. From the sounds of it, she was going to tighten the leash once we got here. With that little stunt though, and you putting your foot down Pavel, there’s not much else we need to do. You,” she gestured towards Zultan. “don’t even need to get into the city. Serena and I can go in, grab some supplies, and you can set off as soon as you’re ready. She doesn’t even have to know.”

Serena blinked. That was an angle she hadn’t thought of. 

Zultan frowned.

“I…suppose that would work. My arm aches but it should be fine. Although I still don’t think I’ll be moving much tonight.”

“No, you won’t.” Pavel said, adjusting his belt. “You lost a lot of blood from that. Don’t think you’d be talking right now if it weren’t for Serena. You can camp out in the guard’s wagon for tonight, should be safe there. Take off in the morning when you’re feeling better.”

“ _Well…if you don’t think you need a better healer, Werond and I can grab some stuff I suppose.”_ Serena signed, glancing up towards the sky. “ _If we’re fast, I bet the shops will still be open. Could leave in the morning.”_

“Rest up, head out at first light. Sounds like a plan.”

Three heads turned in unison towards the Drow leaned up against Serena’s wagon. His red eyes were wide, head turning to look at everyone. He coughed, and scratched the back of his neck, his face turning the palest shade of red.

“I uhm…yeah that works. Sure. You’ll…have to excuse me, I’m not used to such cooperation and kindness.”

“Anything to get you out of here faster.” Werond said flatly. She stepped back, grinning, as Serena shot an irritated look her way.

“Of course, of course. Well, in that case,” Zultan pulled his left foot towards him, and with some difficulty, yanked his boot off. He flipped it upside down, shook it, and grinned as a small cloth sack came tumbling out onto the grass. “looks like this _finally_ paid off. Gods, I’d forgotten how normal shoes felt by now.”

He picked the sack up and tossed it towards Serena. As she caught it – damp from his sweat – she heard coins jingle within.

“There’s about…oh, five or so gold in that? Should be plenty for whatever you need. And uh,” Zultan grinned. “please feel free to keep the rest, buy something nice for yourselves. Call it my appreciation.”

“ _Wait –”_ Serena began to sign, to explain that he would need it more, when Werond grabbed her arm and began pulling her towards Daggerford.

“Sure thing! Now, sooner we get this stuff, the better, right boss?”

“ _But what about –”_

“I’ll get Lord Z over to our wagon,” Pavel said, walking towards the Drow. “you two go grab the stuff, and fast.”

“ _Are you –”_ Serena could barely sign as Werond kept pulling her along. Zultan waved as they moved away, before grasping Pavel’s hand to be pulled up.

“He’ll be fine boss.” Werond said; she let go of Serena’s arm, only to slip her arm into hers. “Let’s get this done. There’s a place I want to take you to tonight, if we have some money left over.”

Serena’s face grew hot at the sudden closeness. She raised her hand to argue, only to drop it when Werond glanced her way, smirk on her face.

She wouldn’t take no for an answer. 


	18. In Daggerford

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, this one took forever! And for good reason, it's the start of something big!   
> Next chapter might come out later than normal. I'm going to get pretty busy here pretty soon, but I'll still be working on the rest on the side!  
> As always, thanks for reading!

“Have to admit,” Pavel said, tying the large sack back up. “those girls knew what to get. I’ve never struck out on my own like you’re going to do, but you should be set until you hit the next city. Dried food, mess kit, blankets. Hell, I think they stuffed a tent in here.”

“Wonderful.” Lord Zultan said. “I’ll have to thank them again before I head off.”

Night had fallen, and the crickets had come out in droves by the time Serena and Werond had returned to the caravan; Pavel had barely started a fire to next to the guard wagon when they showed up. Werond had a large burlap sack strapped to her back, ready to burst at the seams, while Serena trailed just slightly behind, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. The minute they had approached the guard wagon, Serena had launched into a lengthy, but barely comprehensible, description of Daggerford. Her excitement was palpable, and if she was to be believed, the city was the crown jewel of the Swordcoast.

Pavel knew she’d never been in a city as ‘extravagant’ as Daggerford. So, he listened, politely nodded, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Werond dragged her away, back towards the city gates.

Evidently, she had something to show Serena.

Pavel watched them all the way until they reentered the city. Partly to ensure that they made it safely, walking in the dark, but also due to Pavel having nothing to do. Most of the caravan had turned in for the night, and he wasn’t on patrol until much later. Thus, he had time to kill. And for a man like Pavel, that wasn’t always the best circumstance to be in.

He supposed it wasn’t all bad. Afterall, Lord Zultan seemed to be a night-owl. 

“Think they’ll be back tonight? Or in the morning?” he asked; the Drow perched himself on the edge of the guard wagon, leaning against the wooden archway that supported the canvas covering. The rest of the guards were either on patrol, or in the city, giving Zultan the wagon all to himself.

“Couldn’t tell you.” Pavel replied, hosting the sack up and onto the wagon. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Ah.” Lord Zultan said dejectedly. “I suppose that’s too bad. Can’t wait around.”

“Yup. I wouldn’t.”

“Do you have something to write with then? And something to write on? I’ll leave a note, just in case.”

Pavel nodded, and reached into one of the side pockets on his pants, where he extracted a stick of charcoal and folded parchment. Lord Zultan accepted both with wide eyes.

“Do you just…have those on your person?”

“Yup. Never know when you need to write something down.”

“That’s…” Zultan said slowly. “awfully smart of you.”

“Thanks!” Pavel replied. 

Lord Zultan laid the parchment down on the wagon and unfolded it; he held it down with his knee and began to slowly write.

“Haven’t had much practice with this hand. Suppose I don’t have much of a choice now.” He glanced up at Pavel. “I’ll leave before the sun is up tomorrow. Would you give this to Serena for me, after I leave?”

“Sure. Won’t read it either.” Pavel said.

“Well, I would hope not. Only part of it will be in Common.”

Pavel nodded, and leaned against the other side of the wagon’s archway, “Sure, sure. I do have to ask though, were do ya plan on going?”

Without looking up, Lord Zultan said, “Well, always wanted to head to Mirabar. I’ve got family up there and I know they’d take me in. Better family than _her._ This,” he waved his hand dismissively. “ _business_ with her is all for show. I only married her as I knew she frequently made trips to the surface. That, and my family back home pushed me into it. Should have seen that one coming, I suppose.”

Pavel cocked his head. “Arranged marriages common in…wherever you lived?”

“Menzoberranzan. And yes, it’s expected. Quite the custom, too. They pushed for my marriage to someone influential as well, as opposed to who my brother ended up “marrying”. He…didn’t quite live up to expectations, so, being the only other male in the family, they were all dumped onto me. Quite the shit-show if I do say so myself.”

“Your brother must have messed up pretty bad.” 

“Ah, what didn’t he do? Defied orders, spit on customs – even more so than we already did – and worst of all, he got a slave pregnant.” Lord Zultan snorted. “Our mother had quite the fit when she found out, it being her favorite slave too.”

“Sounds fucked up to have a favorite slave.”

Lord Zultan looked up and smiled at Pavel. “Yes, well, now you know why we have a terrible reputation up here.” Zultan’s head snapped towards the darkness beyond the light of the fire. “That bird fellow that rides with us, what’s his name?”

“Who, Cruck’aa?”

“Yes, he’s coming over here.”

Pavel stood up straight and looked around in the darkness. “What makes you say that?”

“Call it a hunch.” Zultan said.

As Pavel spoke, much to his surprise, Cruck’aa stepped out of the darkness. His sharp eyes were furrowed, and he marched with a purpose. 

“Pavel,” he said, unrestrained anger in his voice. “we need to have a talk. About Serena. Where the hell is she?”

“She’s in Daggerford.” Pavel glanced over at Lord Zultan, who had stopped writing and now stared, puzzled at the Aarakocra’s remarks. “Look, can we discuss this –”

“We can discuss it now!” Cruck’aa yelled, feathers ruffled. “I go over there to discuss with her what we need to be doing for our _job_ , and she’s gone! Now you tell me she’s spending a night on the town?!”

“Yes, she went with Werond –” Pavel grimaced as he realized what he’d let slip.

Somehow, Cruck’aa’s feathers became even more ruffled.

“Of course, it’s with that damned teamster! Of course! I warned you Pavel, did I not?! By the time the sun rises, Werond will have Serena wrapped around her finger! We won’t see her again!”

“Cruck’aa, quiet down! People are trying to sleep. And you have no proof –”

“No proof!” Cruck’aa continued to rage. “I’ve seen them myself Pavel! She doesn’t eat with us anymore, never comes to talk; she just sits with that _damned_ teamster all day! Nothing else! She has a _job,_ one that I am forced to do for her now!”

“You sound like my grandmother.”

“Will you take this seriously Pavel! The safety of the coast is at stake!”

“Look, we’ve both been keeping watch, and nothing seems to be –”

“Watches that _Serena_ should’ve been taking, instead of a night on the town with that _damned_ woman!”

“If I may be so bold,” Lord Zultan began; Pavel’s grimace deepened. “I fail to see how Serena’s personal time is of any business of yours.”

Cruck’aa blinked.

He turned his head towards the Drow, affixing him with a stare as though it was Cruck’aa’s first time seeing him.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion, _horse beater._ ” Cruck’aa snarled.

Pavel stiffened, glancing back at the Drow.

Lord Zultan rolled his eyes.

“Yes, by all means, call me the easy names. And it makes no difference whether you asked me or not, you’re shouting for the entire caravan to hear. At that point, anyone would be welcome to throw in their opinions. Am I wrong Johanna?”

Cruck’aa whirled around as Jo came walking into the torch light, annoyed look on her face.

Pavel blinked. Seemed like Lord Zultan could see in the dark. 

“About whom can join in? No.” Jo said, crossing her arms. “About the horse beatings? Probably. Regardless, I don’t know what you’re screaming about Cruck’aa, but you need to quiet down. Woke some of the teamsters up.”

“Like I give a damn if they get woken up!” Cruck’aa had quickly recovered from his shock. “You haven’t a clue how much Serena shirks her duties, and the only one who does know _refuses_ to do anything about it!”

“The hell does Serena need to do? She owns a wagon.”

Cruck’aa opened his beak, then quickly shut it, eyes scrunching up in anger. It took Pavel one glance to realize the hole Cruck’aa had dug himself in.

“Look,” Pavel said, stepping away from the wagon and closer to Cruck’aa and Jo. “we’re not really at liberty to discuss our job, but Cruck’aa has a right to be mad. Just…not so loud about it.”

“Cruck’aa loses his right to be angry when only one of us knows what Serena _should_ be doing. There’s no weight to his argument.” Lord Zultan said. “Right now, you sound like nothing more than a parrot whose cracker was taken away.”

Jo’s laughter echoed through the night. Pavel, forcing himself not to grin, stepped in between Cruck’aa and the wagon, as the Aarakocra began cursing the Drow’s mother.

“Oh, believe you me,” Zultan said with a small grin. “I’ve said much of the same about her. Nothing new there.”

“Okay, okay,” Pavel said, stiff arming Cruck’aa away; Pavel had never seen him as ruffled as he was now. “no more comments. Unneeded.”

“Well I must apologize then. Perhaps that was a bit rude of me.”

“A bit?!” Cruck’aa yelled.

“Hey, hey,” Jo said, shushing him. “stop, you’re waking people up. There’s someone coming over here to tell you off now.”

“Fine!” Cruck’aa whirled around. “I’ll give them a piece of my mind!”

Pavel grinned, then squinted into the darkness, looking for whoever Jo had pointed out. Not for the first time did he curse his lack of dark vision. Perhaps, before the caravan kicked off, he should see if anyone had –

“Fuck.”

Pavel glanced behind.

All the color had drained from Lord Zultan’s face, the whites of his eyes showing as he fixed his gaze towards the darkness.

Pavel turned back.

Lady Zultan – still in her single shoulder dress – stood, expressionless, at the edge of the firelight, silver short sword unsheathed.

Pavel’s heart jumped into his throat.

Jo sprang away from her and landed next to Pavel, eyes wide, rapier already out.

Cruck’aa’s eyes flicked from Lady Zultan to Lord Zultan before he too fell in on the other side of Pavel. His feathers remained ruffled.

Lady Zultan remained where she stood. Her eyes flicked to the wagon behind them as Pavel heard Zultan shift away from the edge.

The crickets – deafening before – now fell silent.

Pavel swallowed his own fear down and took a step forward. 

“Evening Ma’am,” Pavel said, forcing his voice to remain steady. “bit late to be up. Anything I can help you with?”

At his words, Lady Zultan’s face shifted. She stared at Pavel as though she could kill him with a look alone – something Pavel was sure she could do. The fury that burned in her eyes clashed sharply with the relax stance that she held herself in, negating any read Pavel get could on her.

“Ma’am?” he asked again.

“Yes _captain._ ” She snarled, taking one step closer; Pavel laid a hand on the hilt of his sword. “I’ve come to take back that which is rightfully mine –”

“ _Fuck_.” Lord Zultan said, crawling further into the wagon.

“– and I’d appreciate it if we made the exchange easy. Step aside.”

Fear crawled up Pavel’s back as he forced himself to take another step forward. Jo and Cruck’aa remained by the wagon.

“Ma’am, I can’t do that. I superseded the contract, it’s void. The Lord is under my protection now, and I will use force to protect him, should I need to.”

The Drow stared at Pavel, thin lips curling into a cruel smile.

“Oh _captain,_ ” her honied voice grated in Pavel’s ears. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I could do to…change your mind?”

“ _Fuck.”_ Lord Zultan said, from the back of the wagon.

“’friad not ma’am.” Pavel said.

“Good.” She spat. 

The fire snuffed itself out.

Pavel ripped his blades out, just as Lazy Zultan charged, blade aimed towards his heart. 

…

Serena was in a state of awe.

Never had she been in a city as large as Daggerford. Perhaps Mirabar had been the exception, but so rare were the trips outside of her mother’s tavern that she could barely remember her hometown.

Werond had to drag Serena behind her as the sights transfixed her once more. The gate opened directly to the market; a large cobblestone square – almost as large as the field outside – outlined on three sides by numerous buildings, both large and small. The amount of lights alone that adorned the square mesmerized her. Strings of tiny lanterns were laced across the market square, hanging directly above rows upon rows of stalls. Though small, each flame cast a soft light across the square, allowing those below to continue their shopping well into the night. 

And shop they did; hundreds of people packed between the tight rows of wooden and cloth market stalls. Those in the crowds yelled over each other as they strove to shove their way through to whatever stall they were after. The din was almost deafening, each person struggling to be heard, and Serena was glad they didn’t have to fight their way through it again. Once was enough for her. 

Somewhere, near the back of the market, well away from them, a group of musicians, dressed in formal, dark clothes, serenaded the crowds with long stringed instruments. Or at least, she assumed that was the case, being unable to hear them over the crowds.

But it wasn’t the sights that froze Serena in her place, nor the roar of the crowd. A plethora of smells, all foreign to her nose, wafted through the air, urging her to come investigate. Some came close to imitating the delicious smell of sizzling meat that she had feasted on all too often with Ned. Some drifted closer to the strong scent of ale – of all varieties – reminding her of those busy nights serving the drinks with her mother. And some mixed with the earthy scent of tanned leather, though how she smelled _that_ over everything else, Serena hadn’t a clue.

The sounds, sights, smells, everything coalesced into a storm that threatened to overtake her. Again. 

Werond rolled her eyes as Serena halted at the edge of the market.

“Okay,” she said, soft shadows flicking across her face. “this is the third time you’ve stopped tonight. Is it still getting to you?”

“ _Yes!”_ Serena exclaimed; regret washed across Werond’s face at the question. “ _Werond it’s so – all the people and the lights and the goods, it’s so, just,”_ Serena waved her hands about, eyes brighter than the lanterns. “ _how are you so calm?!”_

“Well, we just went through all of that,” Werond gestured towards the crowd. “to get all of his stuff. Plus, I’ve been here a couple times before. Place loses its magic after a bit.”

“ _How?!”_

Werond shook her head. “You’re a bit too easily amused, huh?” she asked.

Before Serena could respond, Werond stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

“Now that we’ve finished our…errands, there’s a place I want to show you. Think you’ll like it better than this place.” Werond raised her brows. “Get a bit drunk too…if ya want. Don’t have to though.”

Excitement burned brighter in Serena’s chest as she signed, “ _Really? Where?! What is it?!”_

“It’s a…” Werond grinned – a grin that Serena had seen before. “it’s a tavern. Thought you’d want to check it out. You know, to tell your folks back home.” She turned and a gestured to one of the larger buildings that outlined the edge of the market square. “It’s that big one right there. The Lady Luck. Been there since Daggerford was established.”

“ _That’s a tavern?!”_ Serena exclaimed; she hadn’t a clue what the huge building could have been, one of the few that dominated the outside of the market. A tavern had not once crossed her mind.

“Yup. Want to check it out?”

“ _Can we?!”_

“I wouldn’t be asking if we couldn’t.” Werond pointed to Serena’s skirt pocket. “How much do we have left?”

Serena jammed her hand in and felt around. As she did, she stuck up two fingers with her free hand.

Werond clucked her tongue.

“Who knew camping supplies cost so much? Well, not to worry.”

Werond stepped next to her, and looped her arm through Serena’s, suddenly pulling her close. Serena’s shoulder rubbed up just under Werond’s, who grinned, and began walking, forcing Serena to keep pace. 

“They have a couple’s discount. Should make our coin go a bit further.” Werond said, in a firm voice.

Despite the cool night air, sweat began to bead on Serena’s back, and she felt her face begin to flush. She pulled her hand out from her pocket and began to sign. 

“ _Oh, um, we don’t – I can just –”_

“ _Shush_.” Werond said, with more force in her voice than Serena had heard before. “We need to look the part. Right, _darling?_ ”

Serena – heart in throat – dropped her hands, along with her urge to protest.

She didn’t know if Werond was messing with her again. A couple’s discount seemed far-fetched, especially for a tavern. Perhaps it was different in Daggerford though.

What she did know was that the excitement that burned within her suddenly flared at Werond’s touch. Her skin felt hot against Serena’s arm, every shift sending a wave of nervous energy through her.

No longer did Serena care for the tavern, or whatever lay within it. Now, it seemed, the only thing that lay upon her mind was the woman she was locked arms with.

Serena shook her head. No, she was excited to see the tavern. Mom would love to hear about it.

If she could focus on it.

Werond lead her to the building she had pointed out, a massive reddish structure which, despite only having two stories, seemed to dominate the buildings around it. Large paned windows dominated the front of the building, allowing Serena a glimpse at the crowd inside. The front doors, thick and oaken, stood a foot taller than her, and occasionally, an unsteady patron would stumble out, oblivious to the world around them. 

Werond suddenly halted, causing Serena to pull against her arm. She released her, then stood in front of Serena.

“Now,” she said, leaning in to smooth out the collar on Serena’s shirt. “this place is somewhat of a nice establishment, just as I assume your mother’s tavern to be. Which means you know how to act, right?”

“ _Y-yes Werond!”_ Serena signed; her hands went up until they were under Werond’s hands, her voice coming out as a whisper. “ _Do you think I’ll mess something up?”_

“Oh no, just reminding you.” Werond said. “Also, remember that we’re supposed to be together. For the discount.” She leaned in, too close. “You know how to act like that, right?”

Serena’s heart jumped at the sudden closeness, a wave of dizziness washing over her.

“ _I…well I haven’t…been with someone before…”_ Her fingers felt heavy as she stammered, her heart jumping again as Werond’s eyes widened.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t know.” Her smile was warmer than the heat that poured from Serena’s body. “Well, this will be fun then, right?”

Serena stared, heart still hammering.

She could only shrug.

Werond stepped back and giggled, before linking arms with Serena once more. Without a word, she guided her to the front of the tavern.

Serena was glad for the support. 

Werond nodded once at the bouncer – up close, more muscle than man – before pushing open the wooden doors and into the tavern.

Serena fought to keep her jaw closed.

Bright red orbs floated lazily along the wooden walls, casting dancing shadows on the main fixture of the room, a large, golden pillar that jutted from the ground floor, all the way to the ceiling of the second story. As thick as an old oak tree, multiple marks had been scratched all across the golden surface, and as Serena looked on, two halflings flung themselves at the pillar, scrambling up, racing one another as high as they could reach. A small crowd had gathered around the pillar, urging, and cheering the halflings on, until – from exhaustion or fear – they slid back down, both declaring themselves the winner.

Beyond the golden pillar, sunken into the dark wooden floor, pits of cushions dotted the space; large enough for everyone that mattered, patrons, from elves to orcs to dwarfs and a single tiefling, seemed to be having the time of their lives in them. Waitresses in skirts too short walked about the place, avoiding the crowd around the pillar, delivering wines and spirits to various pits, bending suggestively to deliver the patron’s ill drinks. At times, they turned their attention to the tables shoved against the walls to the left of the pillar, delivering what Serena knew to be cheaper spirits. At other times, they leaned against the bar, shoved against the opposite wall, flirting with the regulars who knew them all by name.

It wasn’t the tavern that Mom had – too rowdy for her – but, somehow, it did feel like home.

Or at least, something she was used to. 

Serena wrinkled her nose at the mixture of cheap booze and faint sweat, before signing to Werond, “ _I thought you said this place was classy?”_

Werond leaned in. “It is, once you get used to it.” She said, raising her voice over the cacophony of shouting.

“ _Were we going then?”_ Serena pointed to the second story balcony, drunk patrons leaning precariously to watch the crowds below. “ _Up there? Looks crowded down here.”_

“Nope.” Werond said, pointing to two empty seats at the farthest end of the bar, shoved almost against a wall brimming with potted plants. “Quick, nab those seats!”

Serena untangled her arm from Werond and took off running, dashing around the now annoyed waitresses and through the crowd around the pillar. Werond followed close behind, almost slipping into an overcrowded pit, much to the annoyance of everyone within it. 

They caught themselves against the corner of the bar – breathless and giggling – before plopping down onto the cushioned barstools. The end of the bar was empty compared to the rest of the tavern. 

“Fuck,” Werond said, catching her breath, no longer needing to shout above the din. “I am so out of shape from sitting on that damn wagon all day.”

“ _Just walk around a bit, it helps!”_

“Uh huh.” Werond gestured at the bartender at the other side of the bar, a gruff, bald headed dwarf, who barely had his head above the polished wooden countertop. “What’d ya want, ale again?”

_“No, something else. Whatever you get, I guess.”_

“Oh, I’ve got something for you then.”

The dwarf sauntered over, before standing on a hidden block behind the bar, putting himself at eye level.

“And what can I do for you girls?” he asked, voice like crunching gravel.

“House chardonnay, two please.” Werond said; she poked Serena’s ribs with an elbow.

Serena scooted closer, rubbing her shoulder into Werond’s arm, suddenly getting much warmer. She gave a small smile to the dwarf, hoping her face didn’t turn too red.

The dwarf nodded, turned, and pulled a green-yellow bottle from the middle of the racks to his right, along with two wine glasses. As he poured, he asked, “So, what brings you ladies into town, eh?”

“Caravan travel, trying to get back to Waterdeep, hoping for a big payday.” Werond said. She wrapped an arm around Serena’s waist, pulling her half off the stool, and leaning into her. Serena sucked in a breath, as a nervousness settled in her gut.

“Ah, aren’t we all!” the dwarf laughed. He pushed the two glasses over, half full of a clear, yellow tinged wine. “Now, don’t mean nothing by it ladies, but we only do tabs for regulars here. That’ll be nine coppers each.”

“Sure. Serena?”

Serena frowned, but nodded. She pulled the sack of coins out and drew a single gold piece, handing it over to the dwarf.

“Right, thank you ma’am, let me get your change.” He said, before hopping off the step, and walking to the other side of the bar.

“ _Werond,”_ Serena signed. “ _that seems expensive still. Did we not do it right? The…couple thing?”_

“Oh, you did.” Werond said, squeezing Serena against her. “Pretty good job too. If there was actually a couple’s discount, I’m sure we would have gotten it.”

The warmth of the room suddenly became unbearable.

Serena pushed off Werond’s arm and scooted back onto her stool. Werond laughed and accepted the change from the dwarf.

“Sorry, sorry.” Werond said, handing the money to Serena. “Didn’t think it’d actually work.”

Serena shook her head and shoved the change into her pocket. She should have expected something like that. A couple’s discount sounded too strange to be true, and thinking on it, how would it even be policed? Anyone – like what they tried to do – could walk in and claim it.

Serena silently snorted and tipped her glass back; the wine felt dry on her tongue, and as she swallowed, she swore that a taste of apples tickled the roof of her mouth.

She coughed silently and hit her chest with a fist. Werond grinned.

“Never had that stuff before, huh?” she asked, taking a sip.

“ _No, but it’s good!”_ Serena said, grimacing slightly. “ _I like it!”_

“You know, you don’t have to say that if you don’t actually like it, right?”

“ _I like it, I’m just…not a huge drinker.”_

“Fair. Well,” Werond raised her glass towards Serena. “I suppose we should toast to solving our little problem, huh?”

Serena nodded, and clinked her glass against Werond’s, before tipping it back. She drank half, before setting it down on the bar.

“ _So, did we come here just to celebrate? I feel like we didn’t actually do much to help him.”_ Serena signed.

“We did though, we bought his gear. No one else was going to. And I thought it’s be nice to get away from the caravan life. Be on our own for a bit. Besides,” Werond said, sipping from her glass. “I would love to hear more about you. I feel like I don’t know much. Aside from the old stuff you told me.”

Serena felt the tips of her ears begin to warm. “ _Um, sure! What did you want to know?”_

“Hmm. Well, if you don’t mind, what was it like, living with Ned and Bron? Being adopted, I mean.” Werond asked. “I don’t mean to come off rude, but I was just curious. You don’t need to answer if you don’t want to.”

“ _Oh, it’s fine.”_ Serena pushed her glass away, to make room. “ _Well, it was okay. I still missed Mom’s place…still do honestly. But Ned made sure I had everything I needed. I wasn’t his first ‘adopt’… his words. I was the fourth. Suddenly having two brothers and a sister kind of distracted me from being sad, I suppose.”_

“Didn’t know you had siblings.”

“ _Yeah…I don’t talk about them much because they’re rare over in that part of the world.”_ Serena sipped from her glass, oblivious to the confused look Werond gave her. “ _They helped me a lot. Bron did too. He was the one that helped coax out all the magic in me.”_

“Did he?” Werond asked; she turned in her chair to face Serena, leaning her head against her hand.

“ _Yup! He learned how to use magic, but I had a knack for it. Inside of me, I guess. He was kind of a grouch sometimes, but he really helped me figure out how to draw out that magic. Because it’s different for him, he learned how to cast it through studying. I just need to focus, real hard, and I can…do things. Like this!”_ Serena flicked her fingers, causing a dull blue orb to materialize and hover at eye level. “ _I just think about what I want to do, focus a little bit, and my body just…makes it, I guess.”_ She snuffed the ball out. “ _Pretty cool, huh?”_

“As someone who can’t use magic? Yes, extremely.” Werond said. “How did the affinity for fire start then? Is that naturally how your magic comes out?”

Serena shifted uneasily on the barstool.

“ _No, that’s…”_ she felt the tips of her ears grow hot again. “ _When I was learning, I was…sixteen. And didn’t always think straight. Bron pushed ice stuff on me, because that’s what he knew, but I decided I didn’t want to do that. He got mad and let me go ahead and now…”_ Serena forced a grin. “ _I have no idea how to use anything but fire.”_

“Okay,” Werond said. “but what about when you healed Mr. Lord today?”

“ _Oh, that. Honestly, I don’t know. I can just do stuff like that. Bron never could figure that one out either. Called it religious magic, for some reason. I didn’t pay too much attention to that part.”_

“Lovely.”

“ _Right?”_

Werond tipped the rest of her glass down and wiped her mouth. She pushed the glass away, before sliding her stool closer to Serena’s. 

“So,” she said, lips curling into a smile. “was magic all you learned about yourself?”

“ _What’d you mean?”_

“What do I mean?” Werond inched forward, lightly touching Serena’s leg with her knee. “You said you figured out a lot of things about yourself, aside from magic. What else did you figure out?”

Serena’s chest grew warm, those familiar fingers of heat beginning to spread through her body. A nervousness flooded in soon after, and Serena scooted back in her seat, until Werond’s knee no longer was pressed into her.

She drained the rest of her glass, pushed it away, and began signing before Werond could speak. “ _H-hey, you’re asking about me, but I’ve already told you a lot! I still don’t know anything about you…like where you live and stuff.”_

Werond cocked her head, smile still on her lips. “I don’t think I’m very interesting, but that’s fair. What would you like to know?” She waved a hand. “I live in Waterdeep but –.”

“ _Waterdeep!”_ Serena signed; the warm nervousness had begun to cool, and she was happy to find a topic that would prevent its return. She wasn’t ready for it. “ _Tell me about it, please? What’s it like over there? Is it like here?”_

Her teamster let out a _pfft_. “I knew that was coming. Well, it’s kind of like here. But it’s bigger, I’ll tell you that. Way bigger. Daggerford’s barely got a couple of districts if you could call them that. Waterdeep is broken up into a bunch of different wards. Sea Ward, Castle Ward, Trades Wards, you get the idea. I live in the Castle Ward, which is probably bigger than Daggerford alone. And let me tell you, each Ward feels like its own little city.”

Serena scooted closer, nervousness suddenly forgotten. “ _How?”_

“Well, each place has its own feel. Waterdeep as a whole” Werond stretched her arms out wide. “has its own culture that every everyone knows. But each ward,” she brough her hands close, making a box with her fingers. “has its own unique feel. Each place is different.” Werond put her hands down, one dangerously close to Serena’s hand. “You live in them for a year and they change you. A Castle Ward denizen doesn’t get along with a Dock Wardian, but the Docks and the South get along just fine. Does that make sense?”

“ _That makes sense! So, are you what all the Castle Ward people are like?”_

“Oh no! Much of the Castle Ward is too stuffy for my tastes. Although, their tastes did rub off on me a little bit. Made me figure things out about myself, just like you when you lived with Ned and Bron.”

“ _Did you figure out how to fling fire too?”_

Werond laughed. “Oh, if only. No, I figured out what I wanted to do with myself. What I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I got lucky falling into my job, and I…couldn’t be happier.” Her voice faltered for a moment, before resuming its normal cadence. “It affords me the ability to travel, take risks I wouldn’t normally have taken…” Werond leaned her head back, enough to gaze at Serena under heavy lidded eyes. “meet people I would’ve never met.”

Serena blinked.

Werond lowered her head and grinned wolfishly.

The warmth, that heated anticipation, flooded into Serena’s chest.

She raised her hand to sign; Werond laid her hand on top of Serena’s, sending a sudden jolt through her arm.

“Do you know what else I learned, from living in Waterdeep?” Werond’s voice was low, quiet, demanding Serena’s attention.

She slid her hand out from under Werond’s, and clumsily signed, “ _I – ah, no?”_

Werond stuck her foot out, caught it on the bars under Serena’s stool, and pulled it close; Serena’s knees impacted against the middle of the cushion, Werond’s legs spread apart to accommodate.

“A lot of _things_ seem better than what you have.” Werond said, scooting towards Serena; she could smell the apple on her breath, and the slight sweat on her skin. “Living in a city like Waterdeep, you get to try all sorts of things. Exotic foods, local wines, certain people.” She cocked her head. “You start to get the feeling that, perhaps…the grass is greener on the other side. Right?” 

Serena slowly nodded. Her heart slammed in her chest, like a songbird so desperate to flee from its cage.

“And I think,” Werond’s voice dropped into that familiar, husky tone. “that you feel the same, hmm?”

“ _I –”_

For some reason, Serena’s fingers refused work, stumbling over signs, spitting out gibberish in Werond’s head.

The flame from before – from that night, so long ago – ignited within her, a burning desire, rising to the surface after being snuffed out for so long.

Gods, it _hurt._

“Are you nervous, _darling?_ ” A shiver shot up Serena’s back, beads of sweat beginning to form. “What’s to be nervous about? It’s – just – me.”

Each word – breathier than the last – sent more shivers through Serena.

Each breath felt more labored than the last, as though something were constricting her.

Werond leaned in closer – too close – and laid two fingers – delicately – on Serena’s heart.

It jumped to meet them. 

The jolt from before tore through her – body almost curling around Werond’s touch.

“Gods, you _are_ nervous.” Werond said; she dropped her fingers, only to wrap her hands around Serena’s waist.

Serena sucked in a shuddering breath.

Gods, she _burned._

She wanted to give herself to Werond, surrender – but how?

Gods, _how?_

She didn’t want to do – say – move the wrong way.

Werond stroked her thumbs up – down around her sides.

Serena’s mind emptied of all thoughts – focusing only on her hands, warm against her body.

And her eyes.

“I hope this isn’t too much.” Werond whispered. “I can stop –”

“ _No!”_ Serena blurted with a single hand. Werond bit her lip, as she felt her blush deepen. 

She reached up, backs of her fingers cool against Serena’s face, causing the dizziness to flare.

“Oh, _that_ made you red.”

_“S-sorry, I,”_ Serena barely signed, staring into the depths Werond’s eyes. “ _I don’t k-know what to do. Don’t w-want to do something bad.”_

“ _Darling_ ,” Werond said, sweat breath tickling her face. “just close your eyes. I’ll do all the work.”

Her amber eyes fluttered as Serena, without knowing why, obeyed.

Her lips felt warm, pleasant, like the firepit on a cold night. Shivers of pleasure rippled through Serena, her heart ready to burst, body pouring off heat. She could taste the wine, sweet, along with Werond’s feverish desire. She squeezed her hips, pulling Serena in just a bit, enough to send waves of dizzying excitement through her. 

She didn’t know what to do, what to move, what to do, so she did nothing, hopping it would be enough.

Like the sun setting on the last day of summer, Werond pulled away. Serena instinctively followed, only for Werond to place a hand against her chest. 

“Breathe, darling.” She said.

Serena let go of a breath she never knew she was holding.

“Much greener, right?” Werond asked, face flushed.

“ _Ah,”_ Serena signed, suddenly aware of the heat in her own face; the tips of her ears felt as though someone had lit them with a torch. “ _I – y-yeah.”_

Werond shook her head.

“You’re terrible at that, by the way.” She said with a crooked smile.

“ _W-well, you’ll just have to teach me then!”_ Serena blurted out.

Werond blinked, the nodded.

“Suppose I’ll have to, yeah. Among other –”

As she spoke, a bell suddenly tolled throughout the tavern, originating from above their heads, causing both Serena and Werond to jump. 

The uproar in the tavern died almost immediately, patrons and staff alike glancing around, eyes wide. 

“The hell was that?” Werond asked, irritation creeping into her voice.

“ _I – it sounded like a bell?”_ Serena signed, fingers still clumsy, but nervousness suddenly forgotten. 

“Ah shit.” the dwarf barkeep said from across the bar. “Been awhile since we heard that. Alright!” he suddenly shouted. “y’all heard that before, don’t panic! Stay inside ‘till the safe bell rings!”

A sign of relief swept through the inn. Patrons began to resume drinking, the conversion this time just a bit quieter.

“Hey!” Werond hailed to the dwarf, untangling herself from Serena; a chill crept up her as she did. “What was that noise?”

“Just the guard’s bell!” the dwarf responded, ambling back over to the pair. “When something happens outside, the guards ring a big ole bell up in one of the towers. It’s enchanted so to ring in a bunch of important buildings, like this one. They’ve got a couple of other bells to ring too, like if they need backup, they ring it again, if it’s all clear, a different bell –”

“What?” Werond asked. “Did something happen outside? Why would the city guard be activating?”

The dwarf shrugged. “Got me. But if the bell is ringing, must be big. Maybe something to do with your caravan?”

“The caravan?” Why would something with…” Werond’s eyes went wide, and she turned towards Serena. “Boss, I’m sure it’s nothing but…you don’t think Lady Zultan did something? She looked _pissed_ today.”

Icy talons of dread gripped Serena. She hadn’t thought about Lady Zultan at all.

“ _I…I don’t know, do you think she’d do something?”_

“No, she’d be outnumbered. Pavel and everyone else would take her down. She doesn’t strike me as someone who’d do something like that.” Werond said, grimacing. 

“ _You don’t sound convinced.”_

“I’m…I don’t know.”

“ _Fuck,”_ Serena hopped off her barstool and shoved it in. “ _they wouldn’t ring the bell for nothing, and if it is something big, they’ll need me.”_

“Right!” Werond hopped off and waved at the barkeep. “Doesn’t hurt to check.”

Fear gnawed at Serena as they made their way towards the door. She was sure that it meant nothing, that they would walk outside, and Jo would laugh at them for being so concerned. Lord Zultan would do the same, Cruck’aa would give them a hard time, and they’d be on their way.

Serena pushed open the wooden door, the chill of night settling onto her shoulders.

As she did, a second bell, same as the first, tolled through the night.

Before she could think, Serena pushed off the doorframe and broke into a sprint towards the gates. Werond yelled behind her, before dashing to keep up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Werond.


	19. Outside Daggerford

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done! Thanks for waiting, things got hectic for me these past couple of weeks, but I'm glad this piece is finally done! It's not my best work whatsoever, but I try to shoot for "completed" rather than "perfection".

The crowds in the market square had almost died down, when Werond and Serena had burst out from the tavern. The lanterns above the square had been snuffed out, the only remaining light coming from the various torches that burned around the street corners.

It wasn’t difficult to follow Serena; the streets were empty, save from the few nervous looking guards that stood on the street corners. Despite that, she couldn’t keep pace, having underestimating just how fast Serena was. Serena was already arguing with one of the guards in front of the city gate. He wore a simple outfit of plate armor over a padded tunic, just like the rest of the guards, and blocked the smaller door built into the gate.

He frowned as Serena’s fingers flew. Despite the light, Werond couldn’t make them out.

“And I’ve said already ma’am,” the guard replied, shifting his weight, causing his plate armor to chink together. “I’m under strict orders to not open the gate for –”

“ _My wagon is on that caravan!”_ Serena signed, just as Werond caught up, out of breath. “ _I’ve got all my stuff in there – sir, if anything happens, I’ll go broke!”_

Serena glanced at Werond, worried look across her face. Werond nodded and sucked down a breath.

“Sir,” she began, struggling to keep her breathing even, “my boss is right, we have some…high-quality goods on our wagon, and…if something is going on, we need to be there. We need to check with our associates that nothing has happened.” 

The guard slumped his shoulders.

“Ladies,” he said. “I understand the problem, I do. But I’ve got orders. If I go against them and something happens –”

“ _Nothing’ll happen!”_ Serena signed. “ _I saw all the guards run out, if there’s that many, we’d be okay!”_

“No, you’d be another liability for everyone. Ma’am, I’m sorry, I can’t let either of you through.”

Werond’s heart sank; from the look on the guard’s face, she knew he wanted to help, but orders were orders. Short of bribery, there wouldn’t be a way through.

As she turned to Serena, to say as much, her boss stepped closer to the guard.

“ _Okay, okay. That’s fine. But…could you open the latch…thing, whatever it is, so we could at least see what’s going on? If I could just see our wagon, why…”_

Serena slumped her shoulders and gave the guard the best set of doe-eyes Werond had seen.

“ _That would be more than enough.”_ She signed, voice higher than normal.

Werond stared, utterly confused; where had _that_ come from?

Confusion snapped to bewilderment as the guard, though hesitant, nodded and turned around.

“Alright, that’s fine, least I can do.” He undid a hook and shoved open a latch on the door, providing a small view of the grass outside. “Here, there’s a block you can stand on if –”

Without a sound, Serena vanished into a cloud of silver mist.

Werond jumped back, eyes wide, and yelled in shock as the guard jumped. 

“What in the Nine Hells! Did –” the guard sputtered. He spun on his heel and bent over to look out the latch. He swore and began unlocking the door. “Fucking magicians! Gods damnit!”

He swung open the door, providing Werond with a clear view outside.

Serena, mist dissipating around her, was already halfway towards the curved line of wagons. 

A large amount of torch light burned near the end of the caravan line, closer to the road leading away from town. The line was laid in a rough C shape and she realized that the front wagon – the guard wagon – lay on its side. Even from the gates, she could make out the black marks burned into the wood, along with the shattered wheels and torn canvas. Some paces away from the overturned wagon, a group of guards stood in a semi-circle around Jo, who, even from a distance, looked as though she’d been through hell and back. Her hands were on her hips, and she occasionally waved an arm violently towards the city, causing the guards to shift about uncomfortably.

The gate guard began to run out, slow in his plate; Werond ran out behind and past him, ignoring his cries of protest.

Serena was already talking to Jo by the time Werond had gotten halfway. As she did – eyes finally adjusting to the darkness – she realized that some teamsters were poking their heads from their wagons, looking around with fearful expressions. As she dashed by the Zultan’s carriage, she saw that the teamsters were sitting on the driver’s bench, heads close together, as they talked in hushed voices. 

Serena had already dashed off behind Jo and around the flipped guard wagon by the time Werond caught up to the group. She halted behind the guards, bent over, hands on her knees and sucking in air, as the guards half turned towards her.

“…she doing here?!” One of the guards exclaimed. “Another! Ma’am, we’re trying to get this situation under control –”

“What?!” Jo yelled, causing the guards to flinch; up close, Werond realized that her tunic was splattered with blood, along with dark streaks of dirt rubbed across her chest and face, as though she’d been dragged face down. “You haven’t done _anything_ but show up once it’s over! What the _fuck_ is the point of paying dues to the city if we don’t get any protection!? The one job you have, and you fail to do it!”

“Jo –” Werond began, catching her breath.

“Ma’am,” another guard spoke. “we raced out the moment –”

Jo whirled on the guard.

“I know how your fucking bell works!” she bellowed. “It didn’t go off until we cleaned up the mess! How _dare_ you claim that when civilians _died_ under your watch!”

“Jo!” Werond said, pushing past the guards. “What happened?! Who died?”

Johana turned towards Werond; her hands were balled into fists, arms shaking from how tightly they were clenched. 

“The wife.” She said, forcing her voice to remain even.

“The wife…” Werond’s eyes widened. “Did she?”

“Got him behind the wagon.”

Werond’s heart plummeted.

“What –”

“She leapt at us. Got to him before we could react. Cruck’aa and I…” Johana sucked in a breath. “We stopped her. Fucking, he flew off as soon as we did. Pavel was with the husband but…”

Jo stared at her feet, bit her lip, and breathed heavily from her nose; Werond knew she had barely known the Drow, yet there seemed to be a worn anger behind her words.

“I’m…so sorry Jo.” She said. “I’m sure you did everything you could.”

“Yeah.” Jo didn’t meet her gaze. “Right.”

Everyone lapsed into silence, the crackling of the torches the only sound that filled the clearing. Unsure of what else to say, Werond stepped forward and patted Jo’s shoulder, before moving past her. As she did, the tinkering of the gate guard became louder, as he finally caught up.

Only slightly winded, he said, “Ma’am, please, can you –”

“Don’t you fucking talk to my caravan member.” Jo spat.

The guard sputtered; Jo launched into another verbal attack, this time settled on the new guard, but Werond tuned them out.

A weight seemed to settle in her chest, and try as she might, Werond couldn’t ignore it. She had no love for Lord Zultan, but she never wished something like _this_ upon him.

As she walked towards the overturned guard wagon, the details of whatever had taken place became clearer. The wagon looked worse up close; someone had lit a torch and fastened it to the side, allowing her to see the destruction clearly. An explosion had smashed into the side, shattering the frame, and flipping it onto the grass. The wheels on one side had exploded, with the scattered spokes being the only indication, and whatever had destroyed it had burned through the canvas covering with ease.

Werond shook her head. Good only for scrap now.

A muffled voice came from behind the overturned wagon. Werond walked around the wooden carcass, a dull apprehensiveness pulling her breath away. 

Pavel, some feet away, kneeled over the body of Lord Zultan. His red eyes were still open, staring at the empty sky. Blood had soaked the grass under the Drow, and the gashes raked across his chest still seemed to ooze slightly. Pavel’s hands were coated up to his wrists in blood; just like Jo, he looked as though someone had dragged him through the dirt, his half-plate unclasped and dangling, with his tunic torn in various places.

Serena stood on the other side of Lord Zultan’s body, frozen in place, save for the occasion twitch of her fingers. 

Werond’s stomach lurched; beyond them, at the farthest edge of the torchlight, lay the twisted body of Lady Zultan. Though she couldn’t make out any details, the ground under the body was stained dark. Werond adverted her gaze from the body, and slowly walked over to Pavel and Serena.

“…on him faster than I knew,” Pavel said. “threw something at the wagon, he went flying, slashed him pretty good. Jo and Cruck’aa pushed her back. I tried to help him but…” His shoulders slumped. “I only know so much. Not a medic. Too many slashes, couldn’t stop the bleeding. I…fuck.” He looked up at Serena, face gaunt in the light. “I’m sorry Serena.” 

From behind, Werond could see Serena raise her hands, only to drop them a second later. Werond’s chest tightened as she walked around to Serena’s side.

“Serena?” she asked gently.

Serena didn’t react. Her blue eyes remained fixed on the body sprawled out in front of Pavel. Her fingers still twitched at her sides, and her mouth opened and closed, as though she were trying to speak.

“Serena?” Werond asked again, more firmly.

Her boss blinked and turned her head towards Werond, eyes still wide.

“Are you okay?” Werond asked; she glanced over at Pavel, who only stared back with concern in his eyes.

Slowly, Serena raised her hands, fingers still twitching.

“ _I could have saved him.”_ She said flatly. “ _I could have healed him if we…”_ her voice dropped as her hands did the same.

The memory of Bo smashed into Werond, like a hammer to her chest. She began to speak, to refute her words, when more dread settled into her stomach.

She agreed.

Serena was right. Had Werond not dragged her into the city, she would have been there when Lord Zultan needed her the most.

This was her fault.

“No,” Pavel said, shoving himself into a standing position. “don’t think like that. I’ve been there, it’s not worth it. Serena,” he sighed. “no one knew this would happen. No one. But if you want to pin blame, I should have known. We got complacent, didn’t think someone like her would attack us like that. But you can’t bog yourself down with ‘I could have’ or ‘maybes’, you’ll never drag yourself out of that hole.”

Werond nodded, though the pit in her stomach refused to give way. “Pavel’s right. No one could have seen something like this happening. If…if anything, blame me. I shouldn’t have dragged you –”

“ _No!”_ Serena yelled; Werond and Pavel flinched. “ _S-sorry, I just…”_ Serena seemed to deflate, hunching over slightly. “ _didn’t think…I thought he was safe, I…we should have done…”_ Tears began to well in her eyes. “ _I don’t know what we should have done.”_

“No one did.” Pavel murmured. 

“Right, no one did.” Werond laid her hands-on Serena’s shoulders. “We helped him as best we could. Sometimes it’s not enough. Sometimes we do everything right and still fall short, and as much as I hate to say that…it’s true. But you’re not to blame. No one is.”

Her guts twisted as she lied to Serena; Werond knew that she was the cause of this. Had she waited until the morning to head into the city, Lord Zultan would have still been with them.

Serena stared down at her feet, before standing straight, sucking in a shuddering breath. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she nodded, though she did not meet Werond’s gaze.

Werond breathed a sigh of relief, releasing Serena’s shoulders.

She was glad that her words had soothed her, even if only a little. Yet that relief did nothing to ease the guilt that she still felt in her gut.

Another death on her shoulders.

Werond shook her head, harder than she had wanted to; no time to dwell on past mistakes.

“We should…bury him tonight. Find a good spot. Pay our respects.” Werond said.

Serena’s shoulders slumped. Another pang of guilt lanced in Werond’s chest. She stepped to Serena’s side, and laid a hand against the small of her back.

“I know, it’ll be hard. But it helps. Closure and…everything.” Serena looked at Werond with a tired expression. “I know. I’ll help, and then we can turn in. Hopefully feel better in the morning.” 

“Oh.” Pavel said. He stepped closer and began to dig in his pockets. “He – Lord Zultan, he was – here.”

Pavel extracted a smashed piece of parchment, as though someone had crumpled it in one hand, from his pocket.

“He was writing this before…before everything. I said I’d give it to you after he left so…least I can do.”

Serena accepted the charcoal-streaked paper, and carefully unfolded it. As she did, Werond peaked over her shoulder. Most of the letter was taken up with shaky penmanship, though she couldn’t make the language out; the letters and words appeared in a more jagged version of Elven script, and her Elvish was already terrible. 

“Uhm, what language is that?” she asked. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“ _Undercommon,”_ Serena signed with one hand, eyes still on the letter. “ _translate – second.”_

Werond nodded and began to scan the rest of the parchment as Serena read.

She blinked. 

Near the bottom of the page was a small section in Common.

_Werond_

_I know you did not appreciate me in the brief time we knew one another. I can’t fault you for that. But I still must express my deepest appreciation for your assistance in my affairs. I wish you well._

Werond stared at the passage, taken back somewhat. It was a nice gesture, one that she did not expect to receive.

She looked back to Serena to say as much, then stopped.

Serena stared at the letter, eyes furrowed, mouth ajar. She shook her head, eyes scanning the letter again, and again, and again, each reread causing her head to shake more.

“What’s it –” Werond began to ask. 

Serena spun on her heel and dashed off towards the wagons behind them.

“Hey!” Werond’s cry fell on deaf ears. She turned back to Pavel, who shrugged, and gestured for her to go.

Werond took off after her, once again ruing her comfortable job as a teamster.

Serena had raced back to the middle of the caravan line, on the inside of the train. With a start, Werond realized that she was heading towards the Zultan’s carriage.

Beyond her ragged breathing, worry gnawed at her.

By the time she caught up, thoroughly confused, Serena was already franticly talking with the two teamsters, though Werond couldn’t see her signs from behind. From the other side of the wagon train, she could barely make out Jo’s still furious voice, continuing her tirade against the guards. From the sounds of repeated protest, it seemed more had decided to come out from the city. 

“S-Serena,” Werond panted, halting behind her. “What’s –”

“ _Please!”_ Serena signed at the seated teamsters; her eyes were wide, her voice pleading; the letter stuck awkwardly out of her skirt pocket. “ _I, his letter – I need to know!”_

The two men remained silent.

As Serena began to sign again, as Werond began to speak, one of the teamsters, a bulky man in a dark cloak and leather armor, hopped down from the driver’s bench.

“Far as I’m concerned, they’re dead. You do what you want.” He looked back towards his companion, a lithe man in similar garb. “Should head in.” The second man nodded and hopped off the carriage.

“You’re just –” Werond began; without a glance, the two teamsters walked around the carriage, and towards Daggerford. “Uhm, Serena, what’s –”

Serena bounded up the step and flung open the carriage door. She climbed in, and from what Werond could hear, immediately began rummaging through the carriage.

“Hey! Serena!” Werond placed her foot on the step. “What in the Nine Hells are you doing?! Can you –”

Serena appeared in the doorframe, eyes frantic, struggling under the weight of a wooden chest. Werond jumped out of the way as it slipped from her hands, bouncing off the step with a _crack!_ and flipped onto the grass. Serena jumped down after it and fell onto her knees; with a great effort, she flipped the heavy box right-side up, and began undoing the latches.

Werond dropped down next to her, and grabbed her shoulders, pushing her away from the chest. “Serena!” she yelled. “What are you doing?! What’s wrong?”

Serena stared at her, and with a start, Werond realized that her eyes were glassy. Her breathing was rapid, and as she sat back on her knees again, she made a single, frantic sign.

“ _Choker.”_

Werond stared back.

“What?” she asked. “What about your –”

“ _His!”_

Before Werond could respond, Serena flew back at the latches, unlocking them, and flipping the lid of the chest open.

Inside of it, folded neatly, sat a pair of tunic and pants; they looked as though they were made with silk, but if that was true, Werond had never seen –

Serena ripped the clothing out and flung it to the side. Werond grabbed them off the ground and placed it gently next to the chest.

“I don’t know what you’re looking for,” she said. “but be careful with this stuff, we don’t –”

She stopped as she looked back at Serena, who stared with wide eyes at the contents of the chest. A thick book, bound in purple leather, multiple vials of a dark liquid, an ornate, silver dagger, and a pendant with jagged edges, with a broken strap, lying face down.

With shaky hands, Serena reached in and plucked the pendant out, flipping it over in her hands.

A dull, unpolished moon, in front of a circle of arrows, rested in her palm.

Identical to the one around her neck.

Werond stared at the piece.

It dropped soundlessly from Serena’s hands back into the chest. As Werond looked to her, Serena ran her hands through her hair, clutching at her head, as tears began to pour down her face.

The realization slammed into Werond, taking her breath away.

Gently, she grabbed and pulled Serena into a tight hug, just as a deep, silent sob racked through her body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some issues I take with this piece, if I am being honest.  
> First, Serena can teleport. In mechanical, D&D terms, she used Misty Step. She does have this spell, among others, in her spell list. Moving forward from this, I plan on trying to incorporate more of her spells from the campaign into this narrative. How that will take effect, I'm not sure. But I can tell you that, at this point, it's a huge exaggeration that she can only use fire magic. But I guess that was obvious when she healed people.  
> Second, this piece, at least for me, doesn't have the oomph I'd want it to have, solely because I didn't take the time to develop the Zultan storyline as it should have been. That's okay; I want this piece to focus on Serena growing as a character, which is going to look weird, development wise. And while I dislike the way this chapter reads, I know it's necessary for the continuation of the narrative. Plus, I'm not a professional, so I'm allowed to have sub-par work sometimes, right?  
> As always, thanks for reading! I appreciate everyone who glances at my work!


	20. Coming Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've said it a lot about my previous pieces, but I'm not the biggest fan of this chapter. Lot of summarization in the opening, and if this was a true novel, I'd go back and flesh all that out. As it stands, I just wanted to get this piece out of the way. I think the next couple of pieces will have more to them. At the end of the day, I want to write certain scenes, and the opening to this just wasn't something I wanted to write (which honestly sounds sacrilegious for me to say). So, sorry if this isn't my best work!

_Serena Lash_

_Pavel informed me that you won’t be coming back tonight. It saddens me that I won’t get a chance to say goodbye, but I suppose this will have to do. I cannot begin to express my thanks for releasing me from that hideous woman I called a wife. Without you, I’d still be under her thumb._

_You should know, I do indeed plan on traveling to Mirabar. My brother, your father, promised me that he’d be there. I know Vorn’s a good man, and that he’ll stay true to his word._

_I suppose that must be a shock to you, if you even believe it, but we are family. I knew the very day you confronted me when I saw that pendant around your neck. I can hazard a guess that it’s your fathers. He always was sentimental like that. As for mine, I must keep it stowed away. SHE told me to smash and discard it, but I’ve managed to keep it hidden away in our carriage, in my chest, of all things. I doubt she’d ever find it._

_Stay safe Serena. I hope that we’ll see one another again soon._

_Vanet Lash_

By now, the words were seared into Serena’s mind. She had read and reread the letter enough for Werond to grow concerned, asking for the letter so she could hold onto it. When Serena made known that not a soul would touch the letter, Werond had simply nodded, touched the small of her back, and murmured an apology.

Serena was grateful for it.

After finding the pendant, now tucked safely away in its chest, the rest of the night had felt like a whirlwind. Issues had come to light soon after the departure of the Daggerford guards, fleeing from Jo’s ire. As the gate was open, all six of the caravan’s guards came pouring out from the city, in various states of undress or inebriation. From their reports, the Zultan’s teamsters, the two men in black that Serena had frantically talked with, had gone to every one of the guards and convinced them that a night on the town was better for them than mindless guard work. To Pavel’s astonishment, and frustration, each one had fallen for their honied words, and by the time Lady Zultan had made her move, there was no one there to help. Pavel sent them all away, back into the city to find the two Zultan teamsters, but so far that night, not a sign of them remained.

Jo had sworn loudly at the news; she had noticed no one else was around but thought nothing of it. The anger towards herself seemed greater than her anger at the guards.

And yet Serena still felt as though she felt the brunt of the night. The news of Lord Zultan – Vanet’s sudden connection to her had jolted Serena, sending waves of grief crashing upon her. It had taken a long time her tears to stop, for Werond, her own eyes glassy, to release her. Even still, Serena had been barely able to keep herself together to help start the bonfire for Lady Zultan.

Jo had suggested it with a hard look in her eye. She made no attempt to hide her disgust towards the woman, evident by her jumping to collect something flammable. Pavel had decreed that, with the two now gone and Serena being the now sudden next of kin, that she had final say over the contents of the Drows’ carriage. She didn’t care for most of it. And with her permission, Jo ripped out each and every possession from the carriage – from hauntingly beautiful dresses to all manner of religious icons - laid them out in a neat pile, flung Lady Zultan’s managed body into the center, and politely asked Serena to set it ablaze.

She was happy to oblige.

The same ceremony had not been done for Vanet; upon Serena’s persistence, she and Werond wrapped him in the largest piece of still intact canvas and carried his body to the edge of the woods outside the city. There, with borrowed shovels, she and Werond dug a modest grave into the dirt, before gently lowering the Drow in.

It was at Werond’s question of final words for Vanet did Serena break down again, the weight of the night suddenly too heavy to shoulder. By the time the grave was covered and Werond had pulled Serena to her feet, the bonfire in front of Daggerford had already consumed the body of Lady Zultan, filling the air with the stench of burning flesh. 

The chest containing Vanet’s possessions sat away from the bonfire and Serena, exhausted, planted herself on top of its wooden frame, hunched forward, to watch the bonfire die out. Werond, after a moment of hesitation, sat down next to her, knees tucked against her chest. Upon their arrival, Cruck’aa had flapped out from his wagon to join them, followed closely behind by Pavel and Jo, who had been talking outside of his wagon. Cruck’aa landed next to Serena and Werond, with Pavel and Jo walking to the other side, forming a semi-circle around the fire.

The Aarockra let out a low trill. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

“Cruck’aa!” Werond said, as Serena’s shoulder’s slumped. “We all know that!” 

“No, not what I mean.” Cruck’aa said. “It shouldn’t have happened, as now we’ve blown ourselves wide open. Well, Pavel and I have.”

“What makes you say that?” Pavel asked, standing with his arms crossed. 

“And why wouldn’t that involve me?” Jo asked, irritation in her voice.

Serena glanced over at Cruck’aa; his eyes were narrowed, his beak opening and closing as he struggled to find the words. She knew what he was trying to say, trying to phrase, so that Jo wouldn’t ask any further questions. The numbness in her chest faded, replaced with thinly veiled annoyance. She straightened up so everyone could see her signs.

“ _We blew our cover towards the Dragon Cult.”_ Serena signed; Cruck’aa’s eyes snapped open as she continued. “ _It’s why we signed on. We got a report that someone on the train was fishy. We tried to pass off as normal guards, didn’t want to draw attention. Kind of…not happening now.”_ Serena turned her head towards Werond. “ _It was supposed to be a secret.”_

Werond’s eyes had widened at the name, but Jo only nodded in response, her eyes narrowed.

“Serena!” Cruck’aa squawked. “What –”

“ _I don’t care Cruck’aa. Not tonight. Jo deserved to know; she risked her life.”_

“And her?!” Cruck’aa replied, gesturing a talon towards Werond.

“ _I trust her, that should be enough.”_ Serena replied, struggling to keep her voice steady at the tone of his voice. She glanced at Werond, who had looked back towards the fire, a faint flush in her cheeks.

“Been awhile since I’ve heard that name.” Jo said, crossing her arms. “You think there’s members on the caravan?”

“Don’t think,” Pavel said, causing Cruck’aa to flip his hard stare to him. “we know. Got a report about it. But so far, we haven’t been able to investigate. We’ve gotten…complacent.”

Cruck’aa sputtered. “Don’t tell her –”

“And now you’re worried about them seeing you as a threat.” Jo continued. Pavel nodded.

“Yup.” He replied. “I hadn’t thought about it until Cruck’aa mentioned it, but the cult has connections. If we know they’re on the caravan, I must imagine _they_ know that a faction directly opposed to them is also on it. And with what happened tonight…well, we’re at a disadvantage.”

“Any idea what they’re doing?”

“No.”

“Any suspects of late?”

“One. Haven’t pursued it yet.”

“And the caravan disbands in Waterdeep?”

“Correct. Which isn’t too far from here.”

“Well,” Jo laughed humorlessly. “Sounds like you’ve all fucked that one.”

“ _Pavel said it best.”_ Serena signed. “ _We got lazy.”_

“And now that you _both_ know all this,” Cruck’aa hissed, casting beady eyes towards Jo and Werond. “You should forget what you’ve heard, we have the situation under control.”

Jo let out a _pfft._

“Oh, I’m sure.” She raised a hand as Cruck’aa puffed up. “Listen Polly, before you explode. I want to help if you’ll have me.”

Serena glanced over at Jo, who wore a stone-cold expression. 

“I’ve never dealt with them before, but I’ve heard of them.” She continued. “If you know for sure they’re on the caravan, I want to rip them out just as much as you do. From the stories…they sound like some of the worst on the Coast.”

“I’d be fine with that.” Pavel said. “After all that, we’d need another pair of hands.”

“ _If Pavel trusts you, that’s fine with me.”_ Serena mumbled.

“What?!” Cruck’aa chirped. “I – fine! I don’t have the energy to argue with you anyways.” 

“Well, if Jo is jumping on,” Werond said, turning to face the others. “I can throw my hat into the ring. I’m not talented like you three but…” She paused for a moment, face scrunched in thought. “I doubt the problem will go away once we hit Waterdeep. I know some people who could help you guys out. Give you a foothold into the city.” Werond shrugged. “It’s not much right now but…thought I’d offer.” 

“You have contacts?” Cruck’aa asked, narrowing his eyes. “How does a professional teamster have contacts that could help us?”

Werond turned and stared at the Aarakocra, the look in her eyes sending a shiver down Serena’s spine.

“I’ve been in the business for a while.” She said. “You’d be surprised at what I have.” 

“ _That would be lovely Werond,”_ Serena signed, before Cruck’aa could continue. “ _I think we’d all like that.”_

“Agreed.” Jo said. “Suppose that means I’m stuck with all you for a while then. Well, one person is a suspect, right? Pavel, why don’t you fill me in tomorrow as we move, and I can relay the info to Serena and Werond. Shouldn’t look too suspicious if we do it right.”

Pavel pursed his lips, before nodding.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“If we’re just _talking_ about it like this,” Cruck’aa chimed in. “then we should just discuss it now, so –”

“ _No.”_ Serena said forcefully; her skin prickled as the group stared at her. “ _Just…can we call it tonight?”_

“I think that’s a good idea.” Pavel said. “We’re all pretty tired.”

“Sure,” Jo said, turning on her heel. “see you all in the morning.”

Pavel blinked at Jo’s sudden departure towards the Zultan’s carriage. As he turned back towards the fire, Cruck’aa leapt up and flew back to his wagon, quickly climbing inside.

“Huh.” He said. “Guess everyone really is tired. Well…don’t stay up too late then you two. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Pavel.” Werond said, as Serena waved.

The pair sat in silence, as they listened to Pavel’s footsteps grow quieter, watching the fire die down. After a moment, Serena sighed, and scooted off the chest so that it lay in between her legs.

“ _I…don’t feel like sleeping right now.”_ She signed towards Werond. “ _You can head back to the wagon if you want. I’ll be fine.”_

Werond looked back towards Serena, the light reflecting from her amber eyes. She smiled, though there was no joy behind it.

“I’m fine. I don’t feel like sleeping either.”

Serena nodded, and turned back towards the fire. Werond held her gaze on Serena, before scooting back and pressing herself against her. She felt cold, despite the heat from the flames.

“Hey,” Werond whispered. “do you…want to talk about…”

“ _I…I don’t know.”_ Serena replied, her chest tightening. “ _It feels…different from Bo. Worse, I think. I just…”_ She sighed in frustration. “ _I don’t know how to say it. Can we, I, not talk about it?”_

Werond nodded once, before wrapping an arm around Serena.

For a while, the only sound that filled the night was the crackling of the dying fire, now almost burned to its embers. Serena’s thoughts kept threatening to drift back to the events that night, and each time, she struggled to force them away. She did not want to think about them, to process them, to come to terms with them. All Serena cared for was the numbness to remain, to keep her distracted, keep her sane. She could deal with it tomorrow, or the day after, anytime but now. Not now. Later. She couldn’t do it now. Maybe later. Maybe – 

Werond’s arm tightened suddenly around her.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

The tears Serena were holding back came to the surface. She squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to stem the flow. But she couldn’t.

Not anymore.

Serena leaned her head against Werond’s shoulder and cried until the fire finally snuffed itself out.


	21. Irritation Before Noon

“W-well, I think that’s everything. I hope the rest of your t-trip goes smoothly.”

“Me too kid…me too.”

The youth from before nodded nervously; clutching the paperwork to his chest, he spun on his heel, and dashed back through the city gate. Despite himself, Pavel couldn’t help but grin at the boy; he remembered when he was nervous about his first guard position. A simpler time. 

Last night, before he had crawled into the Zultan’s carriage – now the new guard wagon – Jo had requested that they force the caravan to move out the following day. She firmly believed that the city shouldn’t get a coin more for the dues they had to pay to park outside Daggerford. Pavel agreed, and when the caravan guards returned before the sun had come up, looking somewhat worse for wear, Pavel had instructed all of them to comb the city and inform teamsters and wagon owners alike that they were shipping out. By the time everyone was informed and ready to move, the sun was already high in the sky.

Pavel leaned back in the saddle and watched as the caravan slowly began to roll by. He had stopped his horse at the front, enabling him to see the entire train roll by. Not a soul aboard was having a pleasant morning. Each caravan guard had the decency to look embarrassed about what had happened the night before and did their best to make up for it today. Their enthusiasm was not mirrored by the caravan members who had slept in Daggerford; Pavel could tell them apart by their looks of annoyance or anger. From the sounds of it, his order had interrupted quite a few business dealings, ruined a few excited plans of fun for the following night, and had even gotten in the way of a moment of true love. Though Pavel doubted the courtesan felt the same.

Their anger and frustration clashed with the depressive mood that hung over the rest of the caravan members; those who slept in their wagons last night still seemed to feel the effects of the incident. The death of Lord Zultan felt different than the death of Bo, the caravan’s only other casualty. Bo had been doing his job, and though many were saddened by his death, the entire caravan honored him for his courage and willingness to lay down his life for the good of others. But Lord Zultan…

Pavel sighed, and rubbed his face, just as the middle section of the caravan began to roll by.

Lord Zultan had been a fluke, an accident that shouldn’t have happened. Pavel and Jo had failed in their duties, the rest of the guards weren’t even present at the time, and the entire event demonstrated that they could make mistakes. Mistakes that reminded the entire caravan of the dangers of the journey.

It didn’t sit right with him.

Cruck’aa’s wagon slowly ambled by with no sigh of the Aarakocra; Pavel assumed that he had hidden himself in the back of his employer’s wagon, no doubt calming the birds within. Or perhaps he felt no desire to interact with others today, not after the meeting last night. 

Behind his, Serena and Werond’s wagon rolled by. Werond was the only one on the driver’s bench today, Serena no doubt hidden in the back, just like Cruck’aa. Werond gave a small wave to Pavel, and he returned the gesture; from the length of the bags under her eyes, it seemed as though she hadn’t slept at all last night. He had to believe that Serena was the same. 

As her wagon went by, for the first time since he’d been hired onto the caravan, Pavel felt a growing frustration at the train’s snail pace. He’d wish to leave Daggerford before noon, and insofar, they wouldn’t get close to that.

Directly behind Werond’s wagon came Keenblade’s entourage, all three wagons owned by him. Pavel narrowed his eyes as they went past; Larion, like everyone else, seemed to have hid himself away in one of the wagons. He’d refused to go into the city that night, unlike most of his personal guards who’d camped in one of the taverns. But from what Pavel had seen of Larion, he didn’t appear as someone to mourn the death of a stranger.

He’d need to find a chance to tell Jo about him. Larion was their suspect, named directly in the report they had received when the caravan was formed. Perhaps Jo would know of some way to begin tackling their investigation. As of now, Pavel could only watch as the trio of wagons slowly rolled by. 

“Excuse me,” came a deep voice behind him. “would you be the guard captain of this –”

“Of course, he is!” came the shrill voice of another. “What, you think someone with that kind of _air_ is just a regular ole guard?!”

Pavel squeezed his eyes shut; he hadn’t heard of anyone sneaking up behind him this far from the city’s main gate, and for a moment, he debated on urging his horse forward, feigning sudden deafness. Instead, he twisted about in his saddle, until he faced the two people behind him.

And people they were.

A bald man, covered in layers of crimson robes, stood behind Pavel, his brown eyes furrowed in annoyance. Accents of gold streaked across his robes in various patterns, the largest of which was a sun that blazed on the front of his chest. The coloring of his clothing accented his dark skin, the color of it being a shade lighter than Werond’s.

The woman behind him, a halfling, stood barely up to his waist; in stark contrast to the man, she was dressed in a set of dark tunic and pants, with leather armor strapped about her chest, arms, and shoulders, her light brown hair pushed behind her long ears. A short sword was strapped to her waist, her only weapon, once again in stark contrast to the red-robed man, who appeared unarmed.

Making him someone to watch out for.

“Sir,” the man continued; his face was smooth, exceptionally so, and out of place outside the city. “I ask that you ignore the halfling, she’s been following me for quite some time.”

“That’s cuz we’re going to the same place, you bald idiot!” the halfling yelled, a grin plastered on her weathered face.

“Yes, yes.” The man waved a hand. “Would you be the captain of this caravan?”

“Look,” Pavel began, urging his horse around to better face the pair. “I know exactly what you two are going to ask, and the answer is no. We’re not taking anymore people on right now.”

“On the contrary.” The man replied, reaching into a section of his robes, pulling out a folded piece of parchment. “I have a letter of passage, from the company itself.”

“As do I!” the woman said, pulling her own letter from a pocket on her armor.

Pavel accepted both, refusing to hide his annoyance. The company had made no mention of any pickups in Daggerford, or anywhere for that matter. The caravan’s goal was to reach Waterdeep so that the various merchants could sell their stock; any pickups along the way was not in the contract.

And yet, as Pavel read both letters simultaneously, both appeared as genuine articles. The company’s seal lay stamped at the bottom, and the man who had hired Pavel and his friends had appeared to be the one who’d drafted the documents. The bald man, one Azbara Jos, was to travel with Larion Keenblade’s entourage, who were already made aware of the arrangement back in Simont. As for the halfling, one Jemna Gleamstone – a name Pavel swore was made up on the spot – was to travel with a stonecutter on the caravan, a man by the name of Lasfelro, who Pavel had never heard speak before, but again, was made aware of the arrangement back in Simont. According to the letter.

Pavel lowered the documents and glared at the pair. “These both check out. Got the seal of the company and everything. But why the hell wasn’t I made aware of these arrangements back in Simont? Both make mention of your rides accepting the terms in the village, yet I was never made aware. And I should have been. And now you come to me at the last hour, just as my caravan is pushing off, demanding to be let on? I don’t give a rat’s ass what the company dictates, I’ve half a mind to say no to both of you anyways.”

“Well maybe –” Jemna began.

“Well, nothing.” Pavel cut her off, causing both her and Azbara to widen their eyes. “The only reason I haven’t told either of you off is because of these seals. But I don’t trust this as far as I can throw these.” Pavel twisted back towards the caravan, the rear of which had almost passed them. “Jo!” Pavel yelled. “Come here!”

“Sir, while I can’t speak for hers, I can assure you that my arrangements are genuine.” Azbara said. “Why you weren’t informed is beyond me, but the last thing I would attempt to do is deceive you.”

“Uh-huh.” Was Pavel’s only reply. Jemna snorted.

“Ex _cuse_ me Mr. Captain,” She said. “why’d you have such a burr up your ass about this?’

“Because one of our members was slaughtered in his bed last night and I am in no mood for two potential freeloaders trying to take advantage of my caravan, Ms. Gleamstone.” Pavel raised his voice as she began to talk back. “And I’d ask that you refrain from speaking further on this matter before I tear up both of these documents.” He turned towards Jo as her horse walked up. “Jo, take these,” he handed the documents to her. “and walk Jemna and Azbara to Lasfelro’s and Larion’s cart. Get approval from both that they’re supposed to be with them. If either one is unwelcome, keep our guests off the caravan. Something happens, let me know.”

Jo glanced over the documents, then looked over the two behind Pavel, both in a state of shock.

“Sure thing.” She said, urging her horse around. “Come on you two,” she shouted over her shoulder. “hands to yourselves.”

Azbara and Jemna were forced to jog after Jo, as her horse began trotting after the caravan.

Pavel urged his horse behind them, and began to follow in their wake, a frown on his face. It wasn’t even past noon, and already he was ready for the day to be over. 


	22. Bird Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last of the filler! Is it filler though? I am setting things up for future events, but it still feels like filler.   
> Well, take this old commission of Serena as an apology! (I'm not the artist btw): https://imgur.com/a/EixyWFJ

Cruck’aa was frustrated.

Perhaps he shouldn’t be – perhaps the constant gloom that stuck to the caravan was warranted. Yet he couldn’t find it within himself to mourn for the Drow that had been attacked, nor for the Drow who attacked them – though he didn’t believe anyone felt sorrow for her. Cruck’aa had barely spoken to the Drow before that night, and much of his anger had been directed at the other Drow for so brazenly attacking himself, Pavel, and Jo as she did. And yet, despite the attempt on his and his family’s life, he saw no reason to continue dwelling on the past. It was unneeded.

Cruck’aa scratched the underside of his beak, and slowly stroked the neck of a smaller songbird. It trilled quietly in the dark and rubbed into his talon harder.

He cast quick glances about the wagon, checking that the other birds hadn’t been woken up. Satisfied that all were asleep, he scratched harder. Cruck’aa had kept every single bird content so far through the journey, something he’d hoped wouldn’t be ruined by a songbird’s call.

Crickets sang loudly outside his wagon, and had it not been for the current situation, he’d be outside, soaking in their beautiful song. As it stood, Cruck’aa had no want to venture outside his wagon and risk interaction with anyone, even Pavel, Jo, or Serena.

Cruck’aa knew he had no reason to be distressed or saddened by what had occurred in Daggerford. Death was a part of life, and though that part felt worse when it was someone you knew, someone you might have cared about, those feelings would fade in time. After all, the caravan had been traveling for three days since then; even if he did feel anything towards the Drow, by now, those feelings would have vanished. And yet, despite his knowledge that that _should_ be the case, the gloom that clung to the caravan at Daggerford still retained its grip.

Pavel had lost his general politeness, opting for a much shorter fuse with almost everyone. He wasn’t rude per say, but now, he seemed more like an actual guard captain than who he truly was. As though he believed that by doubling down in his duties, he’d prevent another unfortunate death. Because of this line of thinking, Pavel had been snappier towards the caravan members, stricter towards the other guards, and dismissive of anything he considered “off task” as the caravan was moving. While this sat well with the wagon owners, all of whom had praised Pavel for his commitment to the caravan, it didn’t sit right with Cruck’aa, and many others.

Cruck’aa twisted his beak into a frown. He _assumed_ others weren’t happy with his attitude, but truly, he hadn’t a way of knowing. Jo seemed to have been avoiding everyone, remaining silent on her patrols, and taking her meals alone. And he hadn’t seen Serena sign a single sign since Daggerford, her face set in a constant look of worry. Her movements seemed sluggish, her spark from before now gone, and Cruck’aa worried about her ability to perform should the caravan fall under attack. Insofar, that didn’t seem like something he had to dwell on.

He did not know how the rest of the caravan felt. Cruck’aa didn’t care much for them, including Serena’s teamster.

Frustration bubbled up at the thought of her, enough that Cruck’aa carefully put the drowsy songbird back in its cage.

He did not like that woman and her wily charms, always finding new ways to wrap Serena around her finger. It didn’t help matters that Serena seemed to be enjoying it, giving no attention to the job they were hired to do. A job that was now _much_ harder. 

Cruck’aa sighed, plopping himself down in the middle of the wagon.

A complexity had emerged, throwing him for a loop. While he knew that Larion was their main suspect, one of the newest additions to the caravan, a bald man in red robes, had been complicating matters. He’d hitched a ride with Larion, having apparently known him before, and seemed to have been in his shadow ever since. Cruck’aa didn’t know the bald man’s name, but he did know that his presence seemed to frighten Larion to no end. Before, in the rare times that Keenblade had ventured out to eat with the others, he did so with an air of confidence, one that offered no room to even look in his direction. Now, with the bald man constantly with him, Larion seemed tenser, almost paranoid, if Cruck’aa had to guess. While he rarely made appearances outside his entourage, now, Larion seemed to come out each day, preferring to eat and talk with the other wagon owners, much to the muted chagrin of the bald man. 

The bald man in red held some kind of influence over Larion, Cruck’aa knew that for sure; Larion never once had seemed like a door mat, and to have his demeanor change with the sudden appearance of the bald man, well…

He must be someone of importance.

Cruck’aa let out a quiet trill.

He’d have to speak to Pavel about this. If he could manage a moment alone with the busy guard captain.


	23. Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last chapter before the new year!  
> Thanks to everyone who keeps up with my little project, you all have made my year! Have a great New Years, and I hope you look forward to the upcoming chapters!  
> Edit: Someone pointed out to me a really stupid typo that occurred due to a stupid browser extension of mine. That has been fixed!

“Every damn…” Werond mumbled angrily, sitting up from her pile of silks. Too much to drink at dinner, again.

It had been the beer, some from Bo’s old stash. The caravan still had plenty, and she could handle a tankard or two. Gods knew she needed it.

A black fog had seemed to settle on the caravan since they’d left Daggerford. The days had been sunny, yes, and the landscape still beautiful, with the typical Swordcoast sea of endless grassland. But not a soul on the caravan seemed to be enjoying it.

As Werond crawled out of her silks and to the back of the parked wagon, she realized that Serena was absent from her own bed, if it could be called that. She paused at the end of the frame, wondering if she should be worried. 

Lord Zultan wasn’t the first death on the caravan. That ‘honor’ had been taken by Bo. Yet, somehow, his absence seemed to way heavy on the minds of everyone involved. Despite three days having passed since the caravan had moved out, Serena refused to be her normal self. She had barely signed a word since the caravan’s departure, instead withdrawing into herself, a look of worry always etched across her face. Jo was the same, doing her rounds about the caravan with a silence that Werond couldn’t figure out. Pavel, in the moments she’d seen him, seemed frustrated more than he usually was, focusing most of his energy on new measures to safeguard the caravan. Werond had yet to see Cruck’aa after that night, so rarely did he leave his wagon. She had half a mind to make sure he was still eating, yet she could never seem to muster the energy to ask. He’d just bite her head off anyways.

Even the other teamsters and caravan members seemed quieter than usual. Barely a word was spoken at daybreak when the caravan launched, and dinner, once filling the fields and forests with loud conversation and boisterous laughter, remained a quiet affair. Lord Zultan was not liked among any of them, yet something about his passing left a mark on each and every person in the caravan. A quiet reminder of their own morality, and the dangers of their work.

Though she recognized it, Werond couldn’t feel the same. 

She sighed and hopped off the wagon, glad that the moon was out and bright. She waved drowsily at the horses behind them, before ambling towards the trees off to the side of the road.

There had been a numbness that settled onto her, that night after the bonfire. A kind of numb that she could hide behind. Despite what the others had said, Werond knew that she was at fault for Lord Zultan’s death; if not entirely, then partially. But she did not sink into the same depression that plagued everyone else, if only because she was used to it by now.

Werond grimaced; bad thoughts to have. She knew as much, yet it was a challenge to silence them.

Finishing her business, she ambled back towards the wagon, wished the horses behind her a mumbled “Good night.”, and climbed back in, body yearning for the warmth of the silks. Serena wasn’t back yet. Perhaps she was taking a walk in the moonlight.

Her head hit the bundle of silks, eyes already closing; she began to wrap the silks about her body, to trap in more heat, when she stopped.

From the front of the wagon, muffled slightly by the canvas covering, came the sound of someone crying.

Werond sat up, letting the silks fall from her body; at first, she swore her ears were deceiving her. But as she listened, though it was quiet, she recognized the tell-tale sign of someone – a woman – struggling to hold back tears.

She frowned; Werond wasn’t sure of anyone on the caravan who would come to her wagon to cry, of all things. It wasn’t Serena, she couldn’t make a sound. But the only other person she could think of was Jo, and Jo didn’t seem like the crying type.

“Gods,” Werond mumbled as she flipped off the silks and crawled towards the front. “of course this happens now.”

She stuck her head out the flaps, balancing her hands on the backrest of the bench.

In her normal spot, Serena started violently, before flipping her head away from Werond.

“Serena?!” Werond asked; she lowered her voice, eyes flicking to the rest of the sleeping caravan. “Was that you? What’re you doing?”

Without looking at her, Serena signed, “ _Was what me?”_

Her voice quavered inside Werond’s mind, sending an ache into her chest.

“I…thought I heard something. Guess it wasn’t you though.”

“ _Nope.”_ Came a choked reply. Werond frowned and edged closer to Serena.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

Serena didn’t respond, her hands still in her lap.

Werond reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Is there something I can do?”

Serena’s hands clenched into fists as Werond pulled her hand back. She turned away from the woods and stared down at her lap; Serena’s glassy eyes were red and irritated, as though she’d spent all night rubbing them. Werond realized that her dress tunic, sleeves normally just under her elbow, were unrolled, and stained with tear spots.

“ _No, I…”_ Serena’s hands fumbled about. “ _I-I just, don’t know…”_

“Don’t know what?”

“ _How t-to talk about it, I…”_ Serena’s shoulders slumped.

“About Zultan?”

“ _Vanet.”_

Werond nodded. “Right, sorry. Well…best way is to just talk.”

“ _But I…”_ Serena wrung her hands. “ _I d-don’t – not tonight, I can’t tonight.”_

“Then when? You’ve been bottling it up these past days, it’s not good for you. You can talk to me, you know –”

Serena’s hands exploded into a frenzy, causing Werond to recoil.

“ _Talk about what?! That I could have saved him?! We know that Werond! We could have stayed b-but I don’t know if it would have h-helped, but we didn’t know it was going to happen we should have been more observant if I had known he was related I just!”_ Serena rubbed her face harshly, a shaky and exasperated sigh filling Werond’s head. “ _Gods if I had just been there it’s my fault!”_

“Serena!” Werond whispered harshly, moving closer. “Don’t say that, it wasn’t! It wasn’t even close to –”

Serena whirled around in the bench, and fully faced Werond.

“ _But it’s true!”_ As she signed, tears began to streak down her face. “ _If I had j-just been there, Vanet w-wouldn’t have –”_

“Stop, Serena, please! That wasn’t your fault!”

“ _Then whose was it?!”_ Werond flinched at the shrillness of her voice. “ _If it wasn’t mine, then whose?!”_

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault Serena, none of us knew that would happen. If anything, blame Vanet’s wife!”

“ _But we s-should’ve known!”_

“Serena,” Werond said, straightening up. “why are you so focused on blaming yourself? Out of everyone, including _her,_ why are you the one at fault?!”

“ _Because I could have helped!”_ Her fingers flew, Serena’s voice coming out strained in Werond’s head. “ _I-I could’ve healed him or talked her down or just helped –”_

“But so could Pavel! Or Jo, or Cruck’aa, or the guards – it wasn’t just you! Why can’t you see that?”

“ _Because it’s always me!”_ Serena screamed; Werond clutched at her head as a dull pain smashed against it. “ _It’s always me! I killed Vanet when he saw me! I fucked it up Werond! J-just like w-with everything else, with N-Ned and Bron and Mom and Dad I’m always the one who messes things –”_ Serena begun to shake, the tears continuing to pour down her cheeks. “ _E-everything that h-happens, I’m a-always the one who’s at f-fault. E-every time.”_ Her voice trailed off as Serena buried her face into her hands. 

Werond stared at her, unsure of what to say, what she could say; Serena had been bottling up something these past days, but Werond had assumed it was only about Vanet. But it seemed to dig deeper than that. 

“Uhm,” Werond began. “I can’t speak for that, but I know you Serena…whatever happened, none of that was your fault! I…I imagine it would have happened anyway, right?”

Serena dropped her hands, and stared at Werond, eyes ablaze.

“ _S-so I’m just suppose to a-accept that everything, everything!”_ she gestured wildly, “ _was just g-going to happen?! T-that no matter what I could have done, it all still would have gone to shit?!”_

“Yes.” Werond replied instantly. “Serena, that’s just life. You can do everything right and still fail. From what you’ve told me, I don’t think there was anything you could have done before, and certainly not now. And…I think the sooner you realize that the better you’ll feel.”

Werond’s heart slammed into her chest as Serena held her gaze, hands unmoving.

Serena turned away, her lips parted as if she had something to say.

Instead, she pulled her legs against her chest, as her shoulders slumped, and broke down, burying her face against her knees as she let her sobbing consume her.

Werond felt her heart stop.

“Oh, gods, I didn’t,” Werond said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that, Serena I’m sorry, I –” Werond cursed herself silently, before grabbing Serena’s arms. “Please, please come back in, please, I’m sorry Serena, I don’t want you to catch a cold or…please, I’m so sorry.”

Werond began to pull uselessly on Serena, as though she could have hoisted her over the backrest. Serena remained curled up, refusing to move.

“Serena,” Werond whispered. “please, I’m sorry, please come back into the wagon, please.”

Slowly, as though her limbs were made of stone, Serena began to uncurl herself and turn towards the back of the wagon. She was still crying as she did, but now uncurled, Werond grabbed her arms, and awkwardly pulled her over the backrest; her deadweight slipped from Werond’s hands, and Serena fell halfway onto the backrest, her legs still on the other side, though from her continued crying, she didn’t seem to notice.

Werond cursed every god that she knew as she pulled the rest of Serena into the wagon, gently lowering her onto the floor. Immediately, she curled her body, hiding her face in her hands. 

Frustrated at herself, Werond turned away and crawled towards the silks. She grabbed her own pile, and shoved them together with Serena’s, creating a large heap of the sheets shoved against the wall of the wagon. She quickly flattened a space in the middle, before grabbing two of the largest, intact sheets, and laying them to the side.

Werond turned back towards Serena, still crumpled into a ball. She crawled back over to her and offered a quick pray to Deneir.

More gently this time, she stuck her hands under Serena’s arms, and pulled her into a sitting position. Serena feebly tried to push Werond away, as she twisted Serena around until she faced her fully. “I know, sorry, just, trust me.” She said. Werond wrapped her arms around Serena, pulling her into a hug, before scooting back, and falling onto the pile of silks, so that Serena lay on top of her.

“ _W-Werond…”_ Serena could barely sign her name, as she tried to push off her. Werond tightened her hold around Serena, and easily pulled her back down. 

“I know, yell at me in the morning,” Werond said; she released Serena and pushed her slightly to the side, so that she fell into the crook of Werond’s arm.

Serena lay there, her tears momentarily halted as she looked at Werond, confusion in her glassy eyes. With a sigh, Werond grabbed the two sheets of silk off to the side, and pulled them over Serena and herself, forming a warm pocket in the silks.

“Gods, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know if…” She sucked in a deep breath and turned her head to meet Serena’s gaze. “There isn’t anything I can say right now that can change how you feel,” Werond whispered. “so, I won’t say anything else. But when I was in your place…I wished I had someone to hold onto. If…you want to just…get it out, I can hold onto you…if you want, I should have asked but –”

As Werond spoke, Serena had squeezed her eyes shut, and as Werond mumbled through her apology, a single, shuddering sob tore through Serena. She clutched at Werond, causing her heart to jump, and pulled herself in, burying her head just under Werond’s chin. Though she couldn’t hear her, Serena’s body began to jerk as more sobs, harder than before, racked through her. Werond leaned her head back against the silks, and slowly began to rub Serena’s back.

Beads of sweat began to form on her head, from the heat of the silks, from Serena pressed against her, and from her own stupidity. Werond hadn’t a clue what to do, or to say, when Serena exploded like that. Part of her was glad that Serena seemed too far gone to protest the manhandling, though the other part was ashamed that that had even happened. 

Werond shifted against the silks, until her head was propped up; she could barely see Serena’s trembling hand, but it was enough for Serena’s voice to come through.

Her cry was one of guilt, a rough anger at herself for what Serena believed she could have done more. It was one that was overwhelmed by the horror of what had happened, and a desperate desire to have done something when she could’ve. Instead, all Serena could do now was clutch at Werond and sob until there was nothing left but an ache in her throat and a hole in her chest.

Werond knew the feeling all too well.

Holding back her own tears, Werond brushed Serena’s hair away from her face, wishing she could do more. The racking of Serena’s body against hers, the slamming of her heart against her side, and the wetness of her chest as Serena gulped for air, caused Werond’s body to ache.

There wasn’t anything she could say that would calm Serena down; she was well past that point. The only thing Werond could do was hold her tight and let Serena weather out that maelstrom of emotions that raged inside of her. At the very least, Werond knew that would help. After all, that’s what she had wanted, so many years ago.

Werond ran her fingers through Serena’s hair, leaned her head back, and waited for the storm to end. 

Gradually, Serena’s shaking began to die down; her grip loosened against Werond’s tunic, as the sobbing quieted to a dull moan, Serena finally running out of tears to cry. Werond let out a small sigh, her fingers moving up to scratch the top of Serena’s messy hair.

“Better?” Werond whispered; the tightness in her chest loosened with the tiny nod from Serena. “I’m glad. It’s better to…get it all out anyways.”

Serena remained still against her; as Werond began to sit up, she clung childishly to her, her dead weight keeping Werond from moving.

“Okay,” she said, pulling the sheet’s tighter. 

Serena held her grip tight as Werond shifted slightly, settling back into a comfortable position.

“I won’t go anywhere, I promise. Goodnight Serena.”

In response, Serena shifted closer against her. After a moment, Werond felt Serena’s breathing begin to slow, until it settled into a rhythmic pattern.

Closing her eyes, Werond let loose a relieved sigh. The ache in her chest had finally receded, replaced now by a deep lethargy.

She ran her fingers through Serena’s hair, one last time, before drifting into blessed sleep.

…

Serena groggily pushed herself up from the silks, her tunic and skirt sticking to her from the heat of the thin blankets. She was alone in the pile, the spot next to her still flattened. 

The wagon shook, already moving, and the sounds of a caravan in motion filled her ears. The sun shone through the top of the wagon covering, and she realized that she had slept through breakfast…and maybe lunch, by now.

The night before flooded back to her, the events still vivid in her mind. Yet, as they did, the usual sense of embarrassment that came with anything that Werond did refused come. Rather, a warm sense of relief blossomed from her chest, sending a gentle heat through her. Though her face ached, head foggy, and her body still exhausted, Serena felt as though the black cloud from before had been lifted. At least, a little bit. 

She rubbed her face and waited for the sleepiness to subside; as it did, she gripped the frame of the wagon and pulled herself up, wobbling over to the back of the driver’s bench.

The heat of the sun, and Werond’s smiling face, greeted her as Serena flipped back the canvas flaps.

“Hey,” Werond said, before Serena could get her hands up to sign. “the caravan had to move, and Pavel was yelling. Thought I’d let you sleep.” She pointed to Serena’s spot on the bench, to the plate of dark bread and cheese, and a small jug of water. “Grabbed that during breakfast, it was pretty good, all things considered.”

“ _O-oh.”_ Serena signed, her voice horse. “ _Thanks. Uhm…do you mind if I eat in the wagon?’_

Werond shook her head. “Nope, not at all, take all the time you need. If anyone comes by, I’ll tell them you’re asleep still.” She cocked her head. “Oh, make sure you don’t get crumbs in the bed.”

Serena smiled, her face aching; Werond handed off the plate and jug to her as Serena retreated into the wagon. She placed the food and drink down, checking to make sure the jug wouldn’t tip over, before turning and popping her head back out.

“ _Uhm…”_ She fumbled with her signs as Werond turned towards her, brows raised. “ _I just…wanted to say, for last night, I’m sorry –”_

Werond raised a hand.

“Don’t need to say anything. Sorry it was so awkward…but I’m glad I could help.” Werond, giving her a smile that warmed Serena more than the sun ever could.

Serena’s hands twitched, her mind unable to find the right words.

She ducked her head, then looked back up, before sliding closer to Werond; quickly, ungracefully, Serena planted a kiss on Werond’s warm cheek before fleeing back into the wagon


	24. An Excuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather long one, but pretty happy with how fast I was able to churn it out!  
> Things are getting heated though, and we're not even at Waterdeep yet!

Pavel nodded to the cook as he accepted his bowl of soup. Behind him, the line of teamsters began to grumble; the cooks always insisted upon serving the guards first, regardless of how long others had been waiting, something that Pavel was always embarrassed about. He stepped out of line, and quickly made his way down the row of wagons, parked off the side of the road per usual.

The caravan had stopped alongside another stretch of grassland for the night; without the moon, Pavel could barely see his own hand in front his face, causing many of the wagons to hang brightly lit torches on their wagon frames. A small part of Pavel wanted to issue an order to douse all but a few, given how large of a beacon the caravan had made itself. Many of the other guards, however, had pointed out that the Trade Way remained remarkably clear of anything constituting as a threat, making the order ultimately moot. 

Despite that, Pavel had still posted the regular guard patrols for the night, though he slotted himself off. He hadn’t a night off since Daggerford, seeing as though something had always demanded his attention these past days. Not a single guard argued against that.

When he reached the middle of the caravan, Pavel turned on his heel and walked between Serena and Cruck’aa’s wagons, onto the grass off the side of the road. There, sitting around a small campfire, Serena, Werond, and Cruck’aa were enjoying their dinner together.

Pavel grinned; two of them were enjoying their dinner. There was a chill in the air, evident by Werond’s hands under her armpits, and Serena’s long skirt pulled tightly around her legs; they sat pressed against one another, enjoying the others warmth, much to the obvious chagrin of Cruck’aa.

Pavel announced himself as he walked past Werond and Serena, who were happy to see him, opting for a spot on the grass next to Cruck’aa, who eyed him with one beady eye.

With a groan befitting a man three times his age, Pavel plopped down, his half-plate clanking loudly, and set his soup bowl on the grass. From across the fire, Werond grinned.

“You’re too young to be making those noises Pavel.” she said. “Wait until you’re thirtyish, then you can start with the groans.”

Pavel grinned back. “With how much I’ve been doing lately? I think I’ve earned a couple of groans.”

“Fair enough.” Werond said. “We’re getting close to Waterdeep though, right? You’ll get some time off soon.”

“I feel like we’ve been saying that since the beginning.” Cruck’aa grumbled, drinking from his bowl.

“Well, I don’t know about that.” Pavel said. “But we’re less than a week from Waterdeep. Though the caravan’s been moving rather slow, might be off a bit…too tired to read maps and figure out where the hell we are.”

“ _You do look really tired Pavel,”_ Serena signed after putting her own soup bowl down. “ _do you need an extra hand? I can help out if you need me.”_

Pavel shook his head. “No but thank you. It’s all petty issues anyhow. The others should be able to handle it, but owners keep escalating things. Wagons are too close to one another, the patrols aren’t good enough, and someone got irritated at how another teamster looked at them.” Pavel shrugged. “Petty stuff. People still feeling bad from Daggerford. But it’s lightening up, I think. Not as many complaints today, or yesterday. Although Samardag keeps finding issues to complain about.”

Werond narrowed her eyes.

“What’s he on about now?” Werond asked.

“What hasn’t he complained about?” Pavel replied, putting his bowl in his lap. “Most of the complaints are from him anyhow. Yesterday he asked if there was a set of smoother roads we could take, as this section of the Trade Way is too bumpy for him.” Pavel grinned as Serena, Werond, and Cruck’aa all rolled their eyes, almost in unison. “He demanded today that I transfer a teamster from someone else’s wagon to his, considering that, if we can’t switch roads, then he’ll need more help to hold the pots. Apparently, he hasn’t been able to check on all of them thoroughly yet.”

“ _The pots?”_

 _“_ Yup.”

“He sounds insufferable.” Cruck’aa mumbled.

“ _Well, when I met him a while ago, he seemed like an ass.”_ Serena signed. “ _Calling Werond all kinds of things for jumping ship.”_

Werond shrugged. “Can’t help it if you pay more than he did.” Serena nodded in agreement.

“Were you his teamster before?” Cruck’aa asked, eyeing Werond with a single beady eye.

“Yeah, when the caravan was formed. But Serena needed my help, and she paid more. Didn’t help that she’s _much_ cuter than Samardag ever will be.” Werond glanced a smile at Serena, who had turned away, tips of her ears turning a bright red.

“Hmm. So, you just leave him high and dry for a bit of extra coin? Hmm.”

Pavel sighed in between spoonfuls of soup. “Really Cruck’aa? Can’t we just –”

“Do you understand the concept of supply and demand, Cruck’aa?” Werond shot back. “My work as a teamster was in demand, and Serena was able to supply more pay to acquire my labor. It was as simple as that. It’s different now, sure, but that’s how it was at the beginning.”

“Supply and demand is just an artificial construction developed by the rich in order to sell products that the lower classes believe they so desperately need.” Cruck’aa replied, turning to his soup. “It’s just a concept created to keep peasants in line so they don’t get any ideas, like understanding that all they need can be acquired from nature itself, so long as nature is respected and well cared for.”

Pavel stared at the Aarakocra, who sat eating his soup as though what he had said was a natural statement to make at dinner. He glanced across the fire; Serena’s eyes were narrowed, mouth slightly open. Werond, however, nodded.

“True. I can agree with that. Doesn’t change the fact that that’s the system we’re in right now. May as well take advantage of it when you can.”

“Or simply refuse to subscribe to such a corrupt ideology and return to your natural roots. It isn’t difficult, in this day and age.” Cruck’aa said. 

“Sure, but you’d be asking people to simply give up their material possessions and run off into the woods. Cruck’aa, disregarding those at the middle and top, most people in places like Waterdeep don’t even know how to start a fire without assistance, let alone survive in the woods. You’d tell them the same thing?”

“Werond, the fact that most people can’t start a fire is proof that the upper classes subject them to enough artificial hogwash to keep them dumb and helpless. They believe they need the system to thrive, when in reality, the system needs them. Without the lower classes, cities like Waterdeep,” Cruck’aa waved a talon about. “would cease to exist.”

“Sending the entire Swordcoast into chaos,” Werond replied. “If it weren’t for Waterdeep, and the other cities, much of the region would be lawless and inhospitable to the common man. The system may be inherently flawed, yes, but it keeps us safe through the institutions that pop up.”

“Are you implying that, without these capitalistic systems, anarchy would consume the land?’

“It wouldn’t drive the whole place into chaos, but yes!”

Pavel ripped his gaze from Werond and shot a look at Serena, hoping she’d interject. Instead, she stared at her hands as though they held the explanation to whatever the pair was discussing.

“Okay!” he yelled, causing both Werond and Cruck’aa to jump. “I haven’t the faintest damned clue what either of you are talking about, so can we discuss something else?”

Werond’s face turned a light shade of red as she nodded. Cruck’aa shook his head.

“If you don’t discuss these things Pavel, how else would –”

A chorus of voices, all shouting, came from the wagons; before Cruck’aa could finish, they became louder, drawing closer, until Pavel realized that whoever was shouting was doing so on the other side of Serena’s wagon.

Pavel held a hand up at Cruck’aa, angling his head towards the wagon. The other three turned to look.

Coming out from behind the wagon came the very man that Pavel had been complaining about; Werond’s old boss, a fat man by the name of Samardag. His round face was screwed up, as though he’d bitten into a sour piece of meat. Close behind was Jo, clearly irritated, and two other caravan guards, both looking annoyed.

The group began marching towards Pavel and the others, Samardag in the lead. Further behind them, peaking around the wagons, a small group of caravan members stood watching from a distance.

Pavel stifled a groan. Even on his night off.

“Captain!” Samardag yelled; he pulled his vest tight over his green tunic, struggling to keep out the cold. “Captain! A word!”

“He won’t listen to me Pavel!” Jo shouted from behind. “I tried, I swear.”

“And she did a piss-poor job about it!” Samardag halted at the edge of the campfire; the firelight reflected dully from the man’s bald head. “There has been a theft captain! A theft under your watch!”

“Okay,” Pavel grunted; he set aside his bowl and shoved himself up; Samardag barely came up to his chest. “what’s going on? Make it quick.”

“Make it quick!?” Samardag sputtered, his second chin wobbling. “By the gods, I lose some of my livelihood and you –”

“He claims his most prized possession was nicked from his wagon.” One of the guards said from behind. “Said he was taking stock and his most valuable pot had been removed.”

“A fancy pot,” the other guard, a thin woman, said. “made of jade, with fancy gems and gold inlaid. Worth a lot, from the sounds of it.”

“Samardag claims he knows who it did, but there isn’t any proof of that.” Jo followed up, crossing her arms. “The three of us have been trying to get that across, but he’s not listening.” She smirked. “Probably because we aren’t you.”

Pavel rolled his eyes. “Right. Sir, I trust –”

“They’re out of their minds!” Samardag yelled. “I know of only _one_ person who would want to steal that pot, as revenge!” He pointed a thick finger at Werond. “Her! She’s fucked me over since the start, _and_ she’s the only one to know about it! It’s worth more than anything she’s ever had in her damned life!”

“Hey!” Werond shot up, walking a step closer to him. “I didn’t take that thing from your wagon!”

“ _Yeah!”_ Serena jumped up after her.

“If anything,” Werond continued. “it was the other teamster you employ! He knows about it too! He took it, you fat-bastard, not me!”

“ _And she’s been on my wagon the entire time!”_ Serena yelled. “ _Werond wouldn’t have time to –”_

“Liars! Both of you! She’s the _only_ one who’d steal it!” Samardag screamed back, pointing a finger at Werond.

“Okay!” Pavel shoved himself between Samardag and Werond, who’d taken another step closer, anger blazing in her eyes. “Okay! These are baseless accusations you’re throwing out Samardag. Werond, what do you know about this pot?” Werond began to speak when Pavel held up a hand. “Actually, sorry, you made a good point, what about your other teamster Samardag? Have you talked with him? It sounds like him and Werond are the only ones who know about the…pot. And I don’t think Werond took it.”

“You don’t believe me?!” Samardag shrieked. “You’re taking the side of someone as dark as a Filth-Skin?! Have you no shame captain!”

“What?” Pavel asked; Jo’s eyes had gone wide but the two guards behind her held puzzled looks. “Samardag, I don’t –”

The ground next to their feet exploded into flame, throwing up dirt and rocks against Pavel and Samardag.

On instinct, Pavel tackled Samardag, now screaming, as two more bolts of fire flew over them. 

Jo and the guards ducked, the fire streaking wildly around them towards the caravan, screaming louder than a banshee. 

One skipped across the canvas roof of Cruck’aa’s wagon before flying away. The second went up, at an angle, and continued into the sky, like a comet returning home.

Pavel shoved himself up and off Samardag – still screaming – and looked behind him, swords already out.

Serena, hands smoking, had been grabbed by Cruck’aa and Werond, who forcibly dragged her away from the group; her hands were twisting into signs, flinging swears that would have made Pavel’s old drill sergeant blush.

“Did you see that?!” Samardag screamed, still on the ground. “They attacked me! The elf is in on it too! Captain –”

“Shut up! For God’s sake!” Jo bellowed; Pavel jumped as she leaned over the fat man. “Serena’s half Drow, and you don’t expect her to react to that kind of slur?! What did you think would happen, you fucking idiot!”

Samardag’s lips formed an O, eyes wide.

“Oh.” Was the only word that came from him.

“Jo,” Pavel said. “the other –”

Jo jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Already sent those two, wagon’s fine.” She glared down at the now quiet form of Samardag. “Get up. God’s sake, you look more pathetic on the ground.”

“W-well,” Samardag said as he struggled up. “still, t-that seems suspicious! No d-doubt those two are hiding something!” They all glanced up as Cruck’aa flew overhead towards his wagon. “I s-suggest you search their wagon! I bet they’ve h-hidden it in there!”

Pavel began to argue with him, only to stop and stared at the pot dealer; after a long moment, Samardag broke his gaze, and began shifting his weight from one foot to the next.

“Jo,” Pavel finally said. “round up all the other wagon owners, tell them it’s urgent. Samardag, go with her. I’ll be behind you two.”

Jo grinned and nodded, turning back towards the wagons. Samardag began to sputter a protest.

Pavel affixed him a hard look.

Shivering in his boots, the fat man turned and ran after Jo.

Pavel watched as they went between the wagons and disappeared behind them. He crossed his arms and tucked his chin against his chest.

He couldn’t care less about whatever fancy piece of pottery Samardag had lost. He would live without it, should they not find it tonight. Larger concerns dug their way into Pavel’s head, and Samardag’s mention of searching wagons had given Pavel an idea.

What better time to confirm their suspicions on Larion than under the guise of searching for a theft?

He’d have to be subtle, search everyone’s wagons. Make it seem as though Larion wasn’t the target. But this might be the excuse they needed to investigate him. Pavel hadn’t a clue when they’d have a better time than now, so close to Waterdeep. He’d send a prayer of thanks for the opportunity, had he known a god to pray to. 

Pavel frowned. He’d need to tell Serena off again before he left; that girl seemed too trigger-happy these days, though he couldn’t blame her. Pavel had never heard of a slur like that before, but he supposed he’d have the same reaction. Still, he couldn’t have Serena reacting like that again; his message from before must not have stuck. 

He turned around. Still by the edge of the fire, Werond appeared to tower over Serena; though Pavel couldn’t hear her, Werond spoke to her like a mother lecturing a child, counting something off on her fingers. The sharp movement of her arms as she gestured reminded Pavel of his old drill sergeants, and a small shiver went up his spine. Despite the verbal lashing, Serena stared down at her boots, hands picking at her skirt, refusing to look at Werond.

After a moment, Werond grabbed Serena’s chin, and pushed it up, so that she was looking directly at her. Serena’s eyes went wide as Werond continued her lecture.

Pavel squinted; perhaps it was a trick of the light, but he swore that Serena’s eyes had changed color, from a blue to lighter, paler blue.

He shook his head. At least he wouldn’t have to tell her off again. 

…

Despite how many wagons made up the caravan, it didn’t take long for Jo to gather up the owners for each. Pavel always had to remind himself that Larion owned three of the wagons, making the caravan seem more packed that it really was.

Seven irritated wagon owners, Samardag and Larion among them, stood in a rough C facing the side of the guard wagon. Jo leaned against one of the wheels and avoided each question thrown at her, shrugging every so often. Much to Pavel’s own irritation, Azbara stood behind Larion, despite not being a wagon owner. Serena was absent from the meeting, no doubt still getting chewed out by Werond.

As Pavel slowly walked to where Jo stood, the group of owners fell quiet, all turning to stare at him. While some looked plainly curious, wondering why he had called all of them at such an hour, others looked ready to gut him where he stood.

Pavel shrugged. Another day.

He nodded at Jo, who withdrew from her spot and crept around to the other side of the wagon.

“Alright!” Pavel said, planting a wide stance in front of everyone. “Thank you all for coming on such a short notice. I know we interrupted your well-deserved breaks or sleep, but this is quite the urgent matter we must attend to.” Pavel gestured to Samardag, currently hiding in the back. “As I’m sure many of you heard, our friend Samardag was robbed tonight. Well, I assume it happened tonight. Regardless, a choice piece of his pottery collection has been stolen from his wagon, and we’re currently attempting to locate the culprit. Now,” Pavel raised a hand, silencing those about to speak. “this meeting is not to accuse anyone. Samardag already tried that, and many of us know how that turned out.” Samardag had the decency to duck his head from the stares turned his way. “With that being said, however, he did offer me a good idea. We’re in…well, the middle of nowhere, in relation to the Swordcoast. You’re not going to find a town close by until we hit Waterdeep. Which means that, wherever the pot has been squirreled away to, it _must_ be on someone’s wagon, whether they realize it or not. So,” Pavel adjusted his belt, bracing himself. “I, and I alone, would like to give a cursory glance towards the contents of each of your wagons. I hope that, this long into our journey, you all trust me enough to carry out a task such as this. I’m not trying to invade people’s privacy, but we must get to the bottom of this mess before we have…other issues. Rest assured I will abide by the guidelines stipulated in the contract for a matter such as this. My lips will be sealed.” He raised his hands. “I am open to thoughts on the matter, however.”

Pavel squinted, waiting the onslaught of outrage. To his utter surprise, many in the group nodded in agreement, even the irritated owners beginning to mumble an affirmative at the proposal.

He was stunned.

“Uhm…you’ll have to excuse me for saying so, but I expected more…disagreement, if I am being truthful.” Pavel said.

“Really?” An elven woman by the name of Achreny spoke up. “It’s not an issue Pavel, all I’ve got is wood for sale. Hell, I bet most of us feel the same.”

“That and I think we can all say that we trust you…and the guards.” Cruck’aa’s employer, Oyn, followed up. “You all do so much for the caravan. Can’t say I mind.”

“Same here!” Squeaked Samardag front the back.

“And if you talk about what’s in the wagons, we can just court martial you at Waterdeep!” Oyn yelled.

Laughter broke through the group at the proposal; Pavel grinned, and ducked his head. 

“Ah, well, yes, glad to see I’ve earned everyone’s trust.” He said. “I didn’t have an order in mind, so I suppose I can –”

“Hold up!” came a voice near the back.

Pavel squeezed his eyes shut. Of course there was one.

Larion shoved his way towards the front of the group; his eyes were narrowed and despite the chill, Pavel swore he saw sweat glisten on his forehead.

“I don’t give a kobold’s ass whether you people are fine with this!” he yelled. “I’ve got private inventory on my wagons, and you don’t need to be going through that! I refuse to a search!”

The owners behind Larion began to mumble.

“Keenblade,” Achreny replied. “by the Nine Hells, it’s Pavel we’re talking about. What’s he going to do?” She turned towards Pavel. “The court martialing was a joke, but Larion could do that if wanted to, right?”

“Correct,” Pavel nodded, addressing Larion more so than Achreny. “the contract for this caravan does stipulate that I have the power to search wagons at will when given a justifiable reason, and an abuse of that power can be identified and voted on by the members. Anything I see in the wagons, so long as it’s not life threatening…or stolen, must stay between me and the wagon owner.” He nodded at Larion. “I have that power, this is a justifiable reason, no one thus far has disagreed aside from you, which means I am well within my means to search your wagon. I will keep everything I see within private. Not a word will leave my lips.”

As Pavel spoke, Azbara slipped his way towards the front of the group, standing next to Larion. His presence seemed to amplify the sweat that glisten on his forehead.

“Captain, I understand what you’re saying, I do,” Azbara started in a honeyed voice. “But I must agree with my associate here. Privacy is of the utmost concern for us, and I don’t enjoy the notion of you poking around in our wagons.”

Pavel narrowed his eyes; he wasn’t aware that Azbara suddenly owned the wagons with Larion.

“How will I get my pot back then?!” Samardag squeaked. “It’s my prized stock! I can’t just not have it!”

Azbara began to turn towards the man when Pavel spoke up.

“I must agree with Samardag. A theft has occurred, and it must be investigated; letting something like this stand will only cause more issues. I will invoke the contract if I must, but I’d prefer not to.” Pavel adjusted his belt, staring down the pair. “Why don’t we go through your wagons first? Get yours out of the way. Once I’m done,” he raised his voice to address the others. “I’ll swing by each of your wagons and glance in. Okay?”

The crowd nodded; Larion opened his mouth, no doubt to disagree, but Pavel gave him no time. Pavel pushed passed him and through the crowd to begin his walk to Larion’s three wagons.

As the crowd began to disperse, Larion jumped after Pavel, Azbara close behind.

“Pavel,” Larion said, eyes wide, as Pavel marched towards the middle of the caravan. “with all due respect, this is ridiculous. I’ve never talked to that man; I didn’t even know what he carried until tonight! Whatever it is that Samadrag lost, I don’t have it!”

“I must agree with my associate here.” Azbara said in that honied voice. “We have no interest with whatever _Samardag_ has on his wagon. I’d prefer you keep us out –”

Pavel halted in the middle of the road, swiftly turning so that both Larion and Azbara almost ran into him. Larion left a noticeable sweat mark against the front of Azbara’s robes; the bald man waved a hand, causing the mark to vanish. 

“Gentlemen.” He said, palms outstretched. “I understand your concerns. But Samardag is beside himself with worry. We need to get to the bottom of this, and quite frankly, I really don’t care what you have in the wagons. Even if you have all the gold on the Swordcoast, I can’t legally discuss it with anyone as per the contract…which both of you signed, I might add. So, asking me to change my mind when I’ve already made it up is useless. Any further attempt at preventing my job will result in an obstruction of my employment, which can result in hefty fines once we reach Waterdeep. Do I make myself clear?”

Larion bit his lip, eyes furrowed, but nodded. Azbara, however, showed no sign of acknowledgment.

“Good,” Pavel said, ignoring him. “now, let’s get this over with.”

He turned and continued his way towards Larion’s wagon, the pair on his heels. None of them spoke a word.

Each of Larion’s wagons looked unassuming as any other that made up the caravan; standard wooden frame, standard drivers’ bench, standard draft horses, standard everything. The only aspect of the wagons that always intrigued Pavel, aside from the plethora of armed guards that bristled from each wagon, was that the canvas covering of each seemed thicker than usual. Not even direct sunlight could pierce them, something Pavel knew was uncommon on most wagons in a caravan. 

Larion strode ahead of Pavel and waved at the pair of guards, armed more heavily than he was, off the lead wagon.

“Search them from front to back.” He said, as they hopped off. “And keep what you see to yourself.”

Pavel eyed the guards as they walked to the other side of the road, their eyes glued to him and the wagon. He wanted nothing to do with the business ends of their longswords. “Well, considering I’m the only one here, that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“After, captain.” Azbara said. “Keep your lips sealed _after._ ”

“Of course.”

Pavel walked around to the back of the wagon, Larion still on his heels.

“The back flaps are heavier than they look,” he said. “so…be careful. And please don’t mess with anything.”

“Of course.” Pavel repeated.

Pavel grabbed one of the flaps and was surprised to find that Larion was right; just one weighed as though metal had been sewn into it, and it was a struggled for even Pavel to flip them to the side. Larion grabbed the flap and held it up for Pavel, evidently used to its weight. Pavel hopped onto the frame and climbed into the wagon, standing up once inside.

As he got a good look around the inside of wagon, Pavel’s jaw dropped.

The room inside of the wagon was far larger than the outside lead on; crafted through obvious magic, the interior appeared as wide as three wagons, long as another two, and at least another wagon in height. Immediately, Pavel’s balance was thrown off, and he grabbed one of the wooden poles that propped up the canvas covering, taking care not to step on anything.

Which proved to be near impossible. 

“What in the Nine Hells –” Pavel said. 

Piles upon piles of gold and gems, silver plated mirrors and ornate cups, gem encrusted weapons and chairs inlaid with platinum littered the room, in some places touching the canvas top. A small path had been carved into the middle, to a large floating orb, which illuminated the interior with a soft orange glow. Beyond the path, Pavel couldn’t see the floor, so thick where the piles of gold, silver, bronze, and electrum coins. Everywhere he looked, a new treasure seemed to catch his eyes, though the light reflecting off the piles blinded him somewhat.

He slowly made his way towards the middle, gently pushing aside the odd silver pendant or sheathed sword. In one corner, a pile of rolled up rugs, taller than he was, leaned against the canvas, pushing the cloth out, though Pavel had never noticed it from the other side. In another section, with a start, he realized that multiple wooden chests, taller than a wagon wheel, had been hidden under a mountain of gold, barely visible when he walked by them.

All thoughts of searching for a valuable pot had fled from Pavel’s mind; whatever Samardag had lost, it paled in comparison to all _this._ Had Pavel has permission to scoop as much gold as he could carry in his shirt, he would have been set for life; it wouldn’t even make a dent.

Pavel slowly scanned the room if he could call it that. Though he was no treasurer, there seemed to be enough wealth in this wagon alone to rival all of Daggerford…and then some.

His eyes widened as the prospect of the other wagons smashed into him. That was more wealth than all of _Waterdeep,_ if not then coming close to it. Though perhaps that was an exaggeration.

Every doubt that Pavel had deserted his mind; there wasn’t a single reason for Larion to horde this much wealth, save for having to transfer it to somewhere else. Not even the richest noble in the Swordcoast would hazard carrying this much gold across the Trade Way. Which, in a sense, made Larion’s deception that much better. Until now, not a single person on the caravan had any clue of what was in these wagons, believing them to be full of smithing equipment. 

Pavel had to inform the others, they needed to know. He might not know what Larion’s intentions where, but the others might, contract be damned. This superseded the contract. 

Dread suddenly settled in his stomach as he turned around and slowly walked to the back of the wagon.

He’d have a target on his back.

Pavel stopped, and rubbed his face., attempting to settle it back into a look of boredom. After a moment, he pushed open the heavy flap, and jumped back onto the road, heart slamming in his chest. 

Larion remained where he’d stood, face twisted.

“Well?” he said, voice a frantic whisper. “Do you believe me now? I have no need for some ridiculous pot. Whatever Samardag lost, it isn’t on this wagon,” he gestured towards the wagons behind them. “or the others.”

“I, uhm…” Pavel said, unable to keep the shock from his voice. “I suppose you’re right. Doesn’t make sense to take something when you’ve got…all that.”

“Keep your voice down!” Larion whispered, his eyes franticly flicking around. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense! And I don’t think I need to remind you again to stay quiet about everything, right?”

Pavel laid his hand on the hilt of his sword and stared at Larion.

“I already agree that I wouldn’t say anything. It’s none of my concern in the first place. But you casually threatening me doesn’t help –”

“I’m not threatening –”

“Stow the _bullshit_ Larion.” Pavel snapped, causing Larion to take a step back. “I’ve been in this business longer than you know; I know what a thinly veiled threat is when I hear one, and I don’t appreciate it, especially after all the shit I do to keep your horde safe. I don’t plan on saying a thing.”

Larion crossed his arms. “Good,” he said, attempting to regain his composure. “else I’d…have to force you to be quiet.” His eyes narrowed in what Pavel guessed was an attempt at looking fierce; the sweat droplets on his forehead, and the slight shaking, betrayed him. 

Pavel stepped forward, so that he was toe to toe with the man; Larion to tried to back up, but Pavel remained on him.

“You can try.” Pavel whispered, his eyes flicking to the guards who were still watching. “Threaten me again, and you’re off this caravan. Understood?” Larion opened his mouth to argue; Pavel leaned forward, putting him off balance. “ _Understood?”_ he repeated.

Larion glared at him but nodded.

Pavel stepped back and adjusted his belt.

“Good. Have a nice night.” He nodded at the guards and Azbara, before stepping past Larion.

Pavel did not acknowledge the gazes that burned into his back as he passed the other two wagons. Instead, his mind raced; he was glad that he’d thought of the idea to search the wagons, as now they had the proof they needed. Larion was up to something, that much gold and gems proved it. What he was up to, Pavel hadn’t a clue, but he was sure it was connected to the Dragon Cult.

He grimaced. He’d be a target now. And so would anyone else he associated himself with, especially after what had happened in Daggerford. They’d shown their hand. Larion seemed keen to keep him quiet, and he didn’t seem like a man to shy away from underhanded means, or from killing just one person. Pavel would have to –

A tap on the shoulder sent him into the air.

Jo, standing between the last of Larion’s carts and Cruck’aa’s wagon, eyed him oddly. One of her hands was hidden behind her back.

“Bit high strung?” she asked, as Pavel placed a hand over his heart.

“Yes!” he whispered. “What the hell Jo?!”

“Wanted to know what you saw,” she said, stepping back so she was off the road, gesturing for Pavel to follow. “he’s your guy, right?”

Pavel narrowed his eyes but followed her. “Yes, but how did you figure that one out?”

“Call it a hunch…with his three wagons.”

“Fair. Sorry I hadn’t told you yet.”

Jo waved a hand. “It’s fine. What’d you see?”

Pavel glanced over his shoulder, before lowering his voice. “Mountains of gold and gems. More than I’ve ever _seen_ before. The damned inside of the wagon is bigger than the outside, I swear.” Pavel shrugged. “I don’t know what he plans on doing with all that, why he needs it, or _how_ he got it, but it reconfirms that he’s our man. He was the only one mentioned in the report, and to have a rolling treasury?” He crossed his arms. “He’s funding them, that’s for damned sure, or something like that.”

Jo nodded slowly, scratching her chin with her free hand. “That…is suspicious. Funding the cult sounds like the only thing he could do with a mountain of gold. You didn’t see the other wagons, did you?”

“He claimed they were all the same.”

“All of them?”

“That’s what he said. He was sweating enough that I believed him.”

“Hmm…what’s our next move then?”

“Pretend like we didn’t have this conversation, inform the others, and go from there. They might know something we don’t.” Pavel held a finger to his lips. “But this information can’t get out Jo. I didn’t talk to you.”

“Of course, of course.”

“Alright. Now, I need to go back and keep searching the other wagons. Still need to find –”

“This?”

Jo pulled her hand from behind her back; a decorative pot, one that valued appearance over functionality, was clasped her in hand. The body of it was green, with gold around the edges, along with multiple gems that were inlaid across its surface, all bigger than Pavel’s fist.

It looked extremely expensive, and extremely ugly. 

Pavel stared. “That better not be his fucking pot.” He said.

Jo smiled.

“Can you believe he hid it on the floor?” she asked.

“How did you –”

“Cut a hole in the bottom of his wagon, pulled it out, patched the hole up. Don’t ask, but I figured you could use the excuse, and guess what?” She winked. “You did.”

“Fuck, I…I didn’t want to know, just…go give it back to Samardag!” Pavel sputtered. “I’m going the other way, check out the other wagons, we didn’t talk.”

Jo nodded, and turned on her heel, matching back towards the front of the caravan. Pavel turned in the other direction, and slowly made his way down the road.

He stopped and rubbed his face.

“What the fuck have I gotten myself into?” he grumbled.


	25. Spilled Soup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, not liking this one. Just needed to get it out of the way so I can move on to the next piece.   
> Because the next piece, I imagine, is going to be HUGE, and I need to start it!

Serena stretched out, arching her back against the driver’s bench; the sun soaked into her, heat radiating across her body. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open, with the day’s warmth and the rocking of the wagon almost lulling her to sleep.

She cracked an eye and peaked at Werond; her teamster sat forward on the bench, one hand loosely gripping the wagon reins, her other arm propping up her head. Her eyes were already drooping, but Serena knew she was still wide awake.

The caravan had pushed off early that morning, and insofar, the day proved to be a lazy one. All the excitement from last night had died down, with Jo heroically locating Samardag’s missing pot. Samardag had sung praises about her, though Jo looked as though she couldn’t care less. How she even found the pot was beyond Serena.

Pavel hadn’t said much either; Serena spotted him as she and Werond made it back to their wagon, talking at the wagon owner behind them, Lasfelro. A lithe looking man, Lasfelro had yet to speak a word since Serena joined the caravan. She was sure he was mute, but Werond had said otherwise. Regardless, Pavel talked up a storm at him, Lasfelro nodding politely every so often, evidently following along. Pavel seemed anxious, almost nervous about something, but Serena chalked it up to the late work hours. She was just glad that Pavel couldn’t find the time to come and tell her off. Serena didn’t need another lecture.

A different kind of heat rose in her face.

Werond had given her an ear full last night, and Serena supposed she deserved it. Despite how horrible of a slur Samardag had said, there wasn’t a reason for Serena to fling fire at him. Had any of those scorching rays hit, Samardag would have burned to death, not to mention any of the collateral damage that came with them hitting anything else. Serena was lucky that she had flung them up, instead of aiming.

She had known all this, but Werond made sure to reinforce it. With a ferocity that only her mother could match, Serena had been dressed down like a child, sending a flood of shame through her that she hadn’t felt in quite some time. It was warranted, yes; after all, Serena realized just how much she’d messed up before the fire had even reached Samardag. But she didn’t expect Werond to reprimand her like that. Or when she… 

Serena’s eyes snapped open; she leaned forward in the bench, rested her elbows on her knees, and folded her hands against her mouth.

Something had happened, or she felt _something_ when Werond grabbed her under the chin; the shame from what Serena had done made her unable to look at Werond in the eyes, but the second that Werond forced her to…

She’d never felt her heart jump like that, not even during all the other times Werond had messed with her. Bahamut’s Teeth, her knees had begun to _give out_.

“ _I’m not like that,”_ Serena mumbled, fingers barely moving. “ _she surprised me, that’s what it was. That’s all.”_

Mom had warned her about men that might to do something like that, manhandle her thinking they had the right.

But with Werond?

Serena shifted uncomfortably.

The blush had lasted all night.

“Did you say something?” Werond asked.

Serena jumped, the act causing Werond to jump.

“Oh, sorry!” Werond said, hand over her heart. “Didn’t mean to scare you, lost in thought or something?”

“ _Y-yeah,”_ Serena signed, hoping her ears weren’t red. “ _I was trying to…figure out how close we are…to Waterdeep.”_

“Doing the math, huh? Should be about…I dunno, two, three more days? Depending on how fast the caravan moves.”

“ _Oh, that’s good! You excited to be back home?”_

Werond grimaced. “Sure, I guess. I’ve been enjoying the time on the caravan…for the most part. Lot of work I need to take care of back in the city.” She turned towards Serena, smile on her lips. “Plus, I like spending all this time with you, it’s fun. More fun than –”

“ _Stop!”_ Serena signed.

Werond’s grin grew broader. “What?! I can’t compliment –”

“ _I’m already hot enough with the sun!”_

“Well, sure, you are hot in gen –”

“ _Werond!”_ Serena yelled, as Werond began to laugh; already she could feel her ears begin to burn.

Before Werond could continue, Jo rode up from the driver’s side of their wagon on a tired looking horse. Parts of her leather armor had been undone, spots of her tunic now visible, and as she rode up, Jo raised her arms up a bit, letting the breeze flow agaisnt her.

“Nine Hells,” she said, wiping a bit of sweat from her forehead. “I don’t know how either of you just sit in the sun like this, I feel like I’m dying. Especially you,” Jo gestured towards Serena. “how do you wear a skirt _that_ long?”

Serena pulled her skirt tight around her legs and tapped her heels on the wagon’s footrest. “ _I like the heat!_ ” she signed.

“I’ve worn heavier garments than these.” Werond said, pulling at her tunic. “Could be worse. But neither of us are wearing leather, so…”

“Always did hate the uniforms.” Jo grumbled.

Pulling the reins to the side, Jo urged her horse until she walked right alongside the driver’s side of the wagon. Reaching out, Jo grabbed the backrest of the driver’s bench, and leaned behind Werond.

“I don’t suppose,” Jo said quietly. “that either of you heard what Pavel found out last night?”

Werond pursed her lips and shook her head; Serena copied her.

“He searched Larion’s wagon first, it’s bigger on the inside. Mountains of gold and gems, and it’s the same for the rest of ‘em. It’s a _lot_ of wealth, apparently. Pavel wants to call a meeting tonight, to discuss next steps.”

A sense of dread settled in Serena’s stomach. Werond’s eyebrows raised up, but she gave no other indication that she understood what Jo was saying.

Jo pushed off the wagon, angling her horse away.

“Anyways, got to get back to the patrol, good talking with you two.” She waved, urging her horse forward as she did.

They watched as Jo’s horse trotted up the caravan. Werond turned towards Serena, eyebrows still raised.

“What does he need that much stuff for?” She asked quietly.

“ _For hording.”_ Serena signed, still staring after Jo. She glanced at Werond, who had narrowed her eyes. “ _For dragons. If he’s in the Dragon Cult, he’ll need all that money for a horde. The larger the horde, the more powerful the dragon. I don’t know what the cult wants to do, but if it involves dragons, they’ll need a huge horde.”_

“Wait,” Werond said. “how does that work? The horde size, I mean.”

“ _I don’t know exactly how it works, but Ned always said that a dragon, while naturally powerful, was also tied to its horde. The larger the horde, the stronger the dragon’s powers. Its why White Dragons are so weak, compared to the others. They act more like animals, so they don’t really horde anything. But Red Dragons are the opposite. They horde a lot of treasure, so they’re almost always the strongest dragon around. Same thing with the Metallic Dragons, but they’re not always concerned with pure power like the Chromatic are.”_

Werond stared at Serena, mouth slightly open.

“Uh…I guess that sounds correct. How’d you know all that?”

“ _Ned taught me.”_ Serena said, leaning back in the bench. “ _He’s got firsthand experience with dragons after all.”_ She waved a hand. “ _I’ll get into it more at dinner tonight._ ”

“Huh.” Werond replied, leaning back as well. “Firsthand experience? I’ll be looking forward to that.”

…

As the caravan had parked for the night, Pavel had swung by their wagon during his usual once over of the caravan. He had stopped to chat with the both of them, as Werond made sure the horses were situated for the night. It was during that chat when Pavel invited Serena and Werond to a private meal for dinner, happening just to the right of the road, in front of the forest next to the Trade Way. With a not-so-subtle wink, Pavel promised the topics would be entertaining, and that they ought to attend, playing it up as though it was a fancy party. 

“He could have just told us to meet over there.” Werond said, after she made sure the horses were satisfied.

“ _Yeah, but it’s fine. He was having fun with it.”_

“Sure, enough to tip off the entire caravan.” Werond rolled her eyes. “He’s a good guard. Not a great actor.”

It didn’t take long for them to reach the spot that Pavel had mentioned, though it wasn’t difficult to find it, even without Pavel’s invite; with how flat the grass fields were, the whole caravan could see them sitting in front the trees. 

They were the last ones to arrive. A small hole had dug into the ground, and the fire dancing wildly in it lit up the night, casting odd shadows against the trees. Cruck’aa squatted in front of it, feathers puffed up, absorbing the heat. Pavel stood a foot away, arms crossed, watching as they crossed the field over to them. To his left, Jo leaned against one of the trees that stood outside of the tree line, tapping her palms against the trunk, looking up at the stars.

“Glad you could make it.” Pavel said as the pair approached. “Didn’t know if I was obvious enough.”

Serena held back a laugh; he wasn’t being sarcastic. Werond blinked and cocked her head, but before she could speak, Serena waved her down.

“ _Yup! Sorry we’re late, just getting the horses alright.”_ Serena pulled Werond towards the fire. “ _Here, sit with me, it’s chilly tonight.”_

Cruck’aa stared a beady eye at them as they sat down by the fire. Serena pretended not to notice him.

“Okay!” Pavel said, rubbing his hands together. “Onto business. I know that I’m holding you all back from dinner, but not to worry. I’m having one of the guards bring us tonight’s food. Soup again, unfortunately. Regardless, things have shifted into some…unfortunate territory. We all were aware of the theft from the other night. Fortunately, that was resolved.” Jo gave a thumbs up to Pavel. “Before that, however, I was able to search Larion’s wagon under the guise of looking for that pot. And uh…well, it confirmed our suspicions. Larion has a mountain of gold and other valuable objects in the wagons. I’m talking enough wealth to rival the entire city of Daggerford, at least.” Serena’s eyes went wide, along with Werond’s; Jo hadn’t mentioned that it was _that_ much. From his spot, Cruck’aa grumbled and nodded. “I didn’t look in the other wagons, but Larion says that they’re all the same. So, that’s quite a bit of wealth. And while I don’t know what he plans on using it for, it is enough, for me at least, to confirm that the report was correct, and that he’s working with the Dragon Cult. I just can’t see any other reason why Larion would have that much wealth in his wagons, aside from funding the whole cult himself. Regardless of what he’s doing with it specifically, it still makes him extremely suspicious.” Pavel spread his palms out. “Thoughts?”

“You didn’t check the other wagons?” Cruck’aa asked, eyes narrowed. “That seems rather stupid of you.”

“Larion was sweating buckets. I had no reason not to believe him, he didn’t want me around. And regardless, one wagon of wealth is enough to tag him for cult activities.”

Cruck’aa grumbled something of an agreement. Jo pushed off her tree and stepped closer to the fire.

“I don’t know much about the Cult, but I have to agree with Pavel, it sounds like it’s money to fund their operations. Can’t have a huge group without money like that.” She said. “Although I’m open to other ideas.”

“Well, Serena…” Werond began, looking at her. Serena nodded.

“ _I think it’s for something else_. _They’re the Dragon Cult, they associate themselves with dragons. Dragons horde a lot of wealth, and the larger their pile of gold and stuff, the stronger they become. I think they’re taking all that to a dragon or using it to sway a dragon to their side. They’d be a pretty powerful group if they could count even one dragon as their ally. Hell, they might already have one and this is their tribute to it. Ah, it doesn’t matter, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I think all that money, however much Pavel saw, is for a dragon. Or summoning one. Honestly, if they could get all that money now, I doubt they’re strapped for coins in the first place. It’s got to be for a dragon.”_

Jo and Pavel nodded along as Serena signed, their faces twisted, their minds racing. It was obvious to Serena that neither of them had thought of that angle, but she doubted they’d even known that in the first place.

Cruck’aa let out a _pfft._

“That sounds like you just made it up.” He said, eyes narrowed. “Why would extra gold make a dragon more powerful? They’re innately powerful, they don’t get it from an external source.”

“ _It…”_ Serena dropped her hands, eyes flicking up towards the stars; she couldn’t remember how it was explained to her. “ _It’s got something to do with the belief in the money. Gold isn’t exactly valuable, we attach a value to it, we believe it’s worth something. It’s why our opinion of someone changes when they have a lot of money. So, when dragons horde a lot of money, that belief that props up that money bleeds into the powers they already have. It gives them a boost, I guess. That’s about what I remember.”_

“That didn’t help whatsoever.” Cruck’aa said flatly. “In fact, that made it even more unbelievable. Who told you that hogwash?”

“ _Ned, my step-dad did, and he’s a damned dragon Cruck’aa! He knows what he’s talking about!”_

“Really? Another lie? Your step-dad is a dragon?”

“ _Yes! I mean, no, gods!”_ Serena exasperatedly signed. “ _He’s a silver dragon, along with his husband, Bron! They were the ones who took me in and –”_ Serena glanced around the fire, picking up on the bug eyes from everyone. “ _Do none of you believe me?!”_

“Well,” Jo said. “I was with you on the first part, but uh…your explanation seems a little far-fetched.”

“I’ve never heard of a dragon adopting someone.” Pavel followed up.

“ _Well, he’s a silver dragon! They like people, it’s in their nature! Why would I lie about this?!”_ Serena turned to Werond. “ _Do you believe me, at least?”_

“I believe that you believe it.” Werond said, with a faint smile.

Frustration boiled in her chest, but before Serena could sign, Pavel waved a hand, and held a finger to his lips. He gestured with his head towards the road.

One of the guards, the thin woman from last night, walked off the road and towards their group. She carried a large serving tray, taking care not to spill the five-soup bowls balanced on it. Pavel stepped away from the group and met her halfway, graciously accepting the tray as everyone else, save Cruck’aa, waved thanks. The guard waved back, before turning around towards the caravan.

“Well, regardless,” Pavel began, walking around the group and delivering the still steaming bowls. “wealth like that is extremely suspicious. I agree with both Serena and Jo; whatever it is Larion is doing, it’s not good. Make sure to blow on that.” Pavel said, as each person accepted their bowls. Once everyone had their soup, he placed the tray on the ground, and stood with his own bowl. “Right now, we need to figure out how we can apprehend him before Waterdeep. Larion has a pair of guards on each wagon, so six in total, and I doubt him and Azbara will sit by and let us do something. With all of us, save Werond, no offense,” Werond waved a hand as she blew on her soup. “and the guards, it should be an even fight. But it’s not one that I’d like to take regardless.”

“Why don’t we just wait till Waterdeep, and signal our own employers for help?” Cruck’aa asked, fanning his soup.

“Risk trying to jump him until it might be too late.” Jo said. “Better to do it sooner, rather than later.”

“Will the guards on the caravan actually help?” Werond asked. “Do they even know about this?”

Pavel shook his head, spoon halfway to his mouth. “No, I haven’t told them. I suppose I can if –”

Serena’s ears pricked.

A whistling.

Cruck’aa’s head shot up.

An arrow smashed into Pavel’s soup bowl, shattering it, spraying hot liquid all over him; the arrow thudded harmlessly into the ground.

He yelled and began smacking his arms, trying to fling off the still boiling liquid.

Jo dropped her bowl and ripped out her rapier, eyes searching.

Cruck’aa shot off the ground, lightning crackling between his talons, beak twisting to form the words of a spell.

Werond tried to make herself as small as possible as Serena jumped up, throwing her soup bowl away, her hands igniting into two orbs of bright flame.

“Hey!” A shrill voice yelled from the road. “It’s okay, it’s just me!”

They all turned towards the caravan.

A halfling dressed in a pair of dark tunic and pants came sprinting towards them, bow in hand.

“Jemna!” Pavel yelled, shaking his hands, and flinging soup everywhere. “What the hell!”

At the mention of the halfling’s name, Serena doused her flames but remained standing. Serena knew that she had joined the caravan back in Daggerford, but she’d yet to meet Jemna until now. And already, she was making a terrible first impression.

Werond sat up and twisted around as Jo and Cruck’aa relaxed slightly, staring as Jemna continued to run towards them. It took her a couple of seconds to cross the clearing and when she did, Jemna doubled over and gasped for breath.

“Gods…damned these…short legs…” she huffed, sucking in air.

“Jemna!” Pavel yelled again, holding his arms out as soup dripped from them. “Again! What the _hell_?!”

“Would you like to explain why you just shot at Pavel?” Jo demanded.

“Which is a punishable offense, I might add.” Cruck’aa spat.

Jemna straightened up, still huffing.

“Alright!” she said in a shrill voice. “Alright! I didn’t shoot at him, I –” She pointed a gloved finger towards Pavel’s feet. “That! Didn’t want ya to eat that!” She sprang over towards Pavel and began rooting around in the grass.

Pavel looked down at her, brows furrowed, before looking at them and jerking his head towards Jemna.

Serena, Jo, and Cruck’aa stepped forward, and surrounded the halfling in a semi-circle; Werond hopped up from her spot, and at Serena’s gesture, moved to stand behind her. As she did, Serena flicked her hand, and with a sucking noise, the soup vanished from Pavel’s clothes. He nodded to her, before turning his attention back towards the halfling at his feet.

Jemna jumped up, a white rock the size of her thumb nail clutched in her fingers. She began to speak but stopped when she noticed that she was surrounded.

“Gods,” she said, brow cocked. “didn’t think y’all would get _this_ jumpy.”

“You shot an arrow at Pavel.” Jo said flatly. Jemna let out a _pfft._

“Ya mean, saved his life? Look!” She held up the rock for a better look “You swallowed this, be good as dead!”

Upon holding it up, Serena realized that Jemna wasn’t holding a rock, but a square piece of what appeared to be bone. As she stared, Jemna squeezed the piece, causing it squish in her fingers like a piece of meat. The middle began to ooze out, forming a long, slimy body. It began to writhe like a worm held too tight, causing Jemna to hold it further away.

“See?!” She said, as everyone save Jo recoiled. “Piece of _shits_ called a boneworm! Nasty little ugly, gets inside ya and eats through ya stomach and into everything else. And Pavel was about to eat it! They slipped it into ya soup…well, all ya soups, I should say.”

Serena turned her head towards her spilled meal; sure enough, barely visible, something bone white sat among the chunks of vegetables.

“ _Uh…yeah, there’s one in mine.”_ She signed, gesturing towards her bowl. _“You can kind of see it from here.”_

“Werond,” Pavel said, without taking his eyes off Jemna. “please check the other soups.”

“Uh, sure.”

Werond stepped away and did a once over around the fire, scrutinizing each spill. Serena and the others remained around Jemna, staring at her.

“Yup,” Werond said. “there’s something white in all of them. Hell, even in _mine_.”

“See!” Jemna smiled, standing triumphantly; her smiled dropped as the group remained staring. “Uhm, well…kinda thought y’all’d be a bit happier about me saving ya lives.” She said with a grimace.

“You just expect us to believe all that?” Jo asked, eyeing Jemna coolly. “How do we know _you_ didn’t put those things in our soup?”

“Oh, right, should explain.” Jemna dropped the worm and smashed it underfoot. “I saw Pavel here look all shocked when he popped outta Larion’s wagon last night, so I kept an eye out.” Pavel squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. “Figured ya got into something bad, considering Mr. Keenblade’s got a reputation where I work. Sure as shit, one of Larion’s guards bribed the cooks tonight to plop these little suckers in ya soup bowls. Had to stop it. I knew I wouldn’t make it in time, so I shot off that arrow! Great shot if I say so myself!”

“If you saw that the soup was poisoned, why didn’t you stop the guard before she gave us the bowls.”

Jemna glanced up and shuffled her feet.

“I’ll be honest with ya, I was more stunned that the cook was so swayed by a bit of gold. Wasn’t that much. Rather rooted in place, by the time I snapped out of it, ya’ll already had ya bowls.” She looked back towards Pavel. “Now, well, I could tell ya who got bribed, but ya shouldn’t do much about it. Ya draw more attention if you do.” Jemna kicked dirt over the worm. “Larion and that bald cunt wanted to take ya out tonight, so pretending like nothing happened will piss them right off. But!” She stuck a finger up. “I would be willing help ya with this problem! I’m supposed to be watching him too, though what ya’ll know is what I know right now. But! This here little assassination attempt didn’t work, and they’re gonna find out real soon. Which means this’ll come up again before we hit Waterdeep. So! I’d be willing to lend my ole hand here, and help.” Jemna beamed, glancing around at everyone. “Whaddya say?” 

Her proposition was met with silence. Jemna’s smile dropped once more, and she began to back away, slipping out between Serena and Cruck’aa.

“Uh, right! Seems like yall aren’t in the mood, not to worry! Well, think on my offer!”

The halfling turned and began walking back towards the caravan, a spring in her step.

Serena stared after her, utterly confused; she glanced back towards the others, and was relieved to find she wasn’t the only one.

“What in the Nine Hells was _that?_ ” Cruck’aa asked, eyes still wide. “Am I insane or did that just happen?!”

“What, it seems odd to you that the second new member of the caravan suddenly swoops in to save Pavel, and us, from a poisoning attempt allegedly committed by the person we’re after?” Jo squatted down and stared at the crushed worm. “Sounds like you’re the crazy one.”

“ _Does…does anyone believe her?”_ Serena signed, glancing at Werond. She shrugged, a blank look on her face.

Pavel put his hands on his hips, still watching Jemna walk back. “I…yeah, well, I do. To an extent.”

“ _You do?!”_

“She didn’t seem like she was lying.” Jo shot up. “Even if she was, and she put the worm in there, what’s the point? If anything, we’re just more suspicious of her now. I doubt she did it, which means she’s right, and that it was someone from Larion’s crew.”

“Gods damnit, yeah…” Pavel muttered. “I didn’t think they’d react this fast.”

“Really?” Cruck’aa said, poking the dead worm with his foot. “After what happened in Daggerford?”

“You know what I mean.” Pavel sighed. “Right. Well, we need to be on our toes then. I doubt they’ll do anything out in the open, but we need to be prepared.”

“ _We can’t just be prepared, we need to do something.”_ Serena signed. “ _If they tried to take us out like this, then they’ll do it again, right?”_

Pavel sighed, and scratched the back of his neck. After a moment, he nodded.

“Yeah, I know, I agree, I just…” Pavel rubbed his face and sighed deeply. “I can’t think straight now. I don’t know what to do. Anyone have any suggestions?” His question was met with silence. “Right, that’s fine. Well, we’re about two, maybe three days from Waterdeep, so we have a little bit of time. Let’s…sleep on it and met back up in the morning, bring some ideas to the table. In the meantime, keep your eyes open tonight, just in case. I’ll have the guards patrol a bit closer, but they might try something tonight, never know.”

“You’re really going to just leave it for the morning?” Jo asked.

Pavel shrugged. “Unless you’ve got some genius plan, I don’t have much else. Sorry.” He looked around apologetically. “Just…keep your eyes open.”

…

“Do you really believe her?”

“ _If Pavel does, I guess I do too.”_

The dinner party had broken up shortly after Jemna left; her stunt with Pavel’s soup seemed to drain everyone, killing any remaining mood for conversation. By the time Serena and Werond had gotten back to the wagon, the crickets were out in force, and they both were exhausted.

“I dunno,” Werond said, as she climbed into the back of the wagon, Serena following. “just seems weird, I guess. Jemna just happens to see Pavel, happens to decide to watch him, and happens to save our lives the next night? Sounds like bullshit.”

“ _Stranger things have happened.”_

“I suppose.”

Werond flipped open the top sheet of silk, and climbed into the pile, scooting to the side. Serena followed, laying down next to her, and pulled the top sheet over them.

“I just can’t believe they tried to poison me.” Werond said; she moved over so that their shoulders touched. “What did I do? You guys, sure. Me? I drive the wagon, that’s it!”

Serena let out a silent _pfft_ and pulled her hands out from under the sheet.

“ _Oh, so it’s fine if we get poisoned?”_

“You know what I mean!” Werond laughed.

“ _Well, if anything happens, I’ll protect you, since you can’t seem to protect yourself.”_

“Huh. Well, I’ll trust you to that then.”

Serena turned slightly and put her head against Werond’s chest, just under her chin. Werond slide an arm around Serena and shifted into a comfortable position.

“Not that I mind, by the way.” Werond said. “But we can separate the silks if you want.”

Serena shook her head against Werond’s chin, causing her to softly laugh.

“Alright, just checking. Goodnight, boss.”

The crickets outside became deafening as Werond began to drift off. Try as she might, Serena couldn’t follow her.

Dread gnawed at her stomach, her chest tight. The poisoning happened so fast, none of them had a chance to process it. They could have died tonight, but no one seemed to care. She supposed that came with what they did, day in and day out. Traveling across the coast, guarding caravans, investigating cults, it was dangerous work. But even when they were confronted with something like tonight, none of them seemed to flinch. It was just part of the job.

Yet dread still gnawed at her. It wasn’t borne of her own life almost being lost tonight, but of the fact that Werond had also found one of those things in her soup. The thought of her being poisoned and what that worm could have done…

Serena shoved the thought out of her mind. She didn’t want to think about it.

She draped an arm around the now sleeping form of Werond.

Not tonight. 


	26. Blood in the Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this one would take me much longer to write, but I managed to knock it out in three days! Must be getter fast...or worse.
> 
> Anyway, I've been looking forward to this part for a long time, all the way back since chapter 5. Planning it out took forever, and I'm not sure how well the scene holds, but overall, I'm proud I managed to pull it off. 
> 
> Just as a warning, this part does get pretty bloody.

Another sunny day. Another day on the Trade Way. Another day staring at the vast open grasslands that made up the Swordcoast. But today was different. Today, a forest the size of a city stood to the right of the road, just beyond the shallow embankment, its dark trees standing proud and tall against the blue backdrop of the sky.

Serena leaned her head against the backrest and rolled her eyes.

She was going insane.

“ _I know I keep asking this but –”_ Serena began to sign.

“Two more days.” Werond interrupted, her own eyes drooping. “Two more days. Pavel checked the maps this morning.”

“ _Thank the gods!”_

Serena slid sideways in the bench and planted her feet in Werond’s lap; she hung her head off the side of the driver’s bench, bouncing in rhythm to the wagon’s movement.

“Uh, excuse me,” Werond said, laying her arms on top of Serena’s shins. “I’m trying to drive? You know, the most important job on this wagon?”

Serena stuck her hands up without looking at Werond. “ _We both know you just tell the horses to walk straight.”_

“Shush! Don’t let the other teamsters know!”

Serena laughed and dropped her hands.

Pavel almost had a heart attack trying to get the wagons organized this morning; typically, the caravan was laid out as it was now, with the order being specific to Pavel’s preferences. Guard wagon – the Zultan’s old wagon – at the front, food wagon behind it, Bo’s old alcohol wagon behind that one, and every other wagon falling in as the teamsters wished. It always that order, and any disruption of that order seemed to irritate Pavel. Serena knew that it had something to do with his old military training, but she still felt as though he always overreacted, especially this morning, when Samardag requested his wagon be right behind the guard’s wagon. The pot seller had woken up in a conniption fit, spouting off ridiculous events that could occur now that they were closer to Waterdeep. It had taken Pavel all morning to talk him down, which caused the entire caravan to be behind schedule.

Serena left out a silent _pfft;_ her vision blurred as the wagon hit a bump, causing her head to bounce and tap the wooden frame.

She quickly sat up and ignored Werond’s laughter.

There wasn’t anything for Samardag to be afraid of. Afterall, Daggerford and the time before that remained the only incidents on the entire journey, something that befuddled the guards to no end. Caravans were typically harassed much more frequently, and a trip such as theirs was unheard of. Perhaps the Trade Way was just empty this time of year. Serena didn’t really care, so long as there wasn’t any fighting. Though each day did seem to drag on.

“Hey,” Werond said, as Serena rubbed her head. “any idea what your little group’s plans are, once we get to the city?”

“ _Pretty sure it’ll be more investigating everything. I bet Pavel’s going to want to contact our employers at least once.”_ Serena replied.

“You keep mentioning them, but I don’t think you ever said who you all were working for. Is it the Harpers?”

Serena shot a look towards Werond. “ _How’d you know?”_

“Honestly, boss, everyone decent these days works for the Harpers. They’re not really subtle about it, even when they try to be.” Werond waved at one of the guards walking towards the back of the caravan. “Anyways, you all have a place to stay? Figured that out yet?” 

“ _I haven’t heard anything, no. Why?”_

“Just had the thought, my house is decently sized. Got a couple of bedrooms I don’t use. You all would be welcome to stay, long as you need to. Gets a little bit lonely there anyways.”

“ _You have a house with more than one bedroom? That sounds like you’re rich!”_

Werond laughed. “You’ve got a strange measure for that. No, I’m not rich, just know how to save my wages.”

“ _Well, I’m sure Pavel and the others would take you up on that. I know I will.”_

“Great, we’ll have to ask tonight. Plus, there’s a place I want to take all of you. Little hole in the wall establishment. My treat, for getting me back safely. I’m ah,” She winked at Serena. “sure you’ll like it.”

Heat rushed to Serena’s face.

As she began to sign back, to ask what Werond meant, their wagon jerked to a stop.

The horses halted some steps behind Cruck’aa’s wagon, the beasts suddenly stomping their hooves and shaking their heads. Eyes wide, they flicked from side to side, as though they were looking for something.

“The hell?” Werond said, leaning forward. “Hey! What’s the matter with you guys? What’s spooking you?” She asked, looking around.

Cruck’aa’s wagon wasn’t moving from its spot, which meant that the entire caravan must have stopped, or at least, part of it. And from the sounds of it, Cruck’aa’s horses were just as spooked as theirs.

Serena leaned out from the bench, looking around his wagon. 

The entire caravan had indeed stopped, owners and teamsters poking their heads out, mumbling and angrily questioning what was going on. Among them, Larion had hopped off his wagon and was already stalking towards the front.

Each wagon’s horses were just as spooked as theirs, heads flipping wildly. Some pulled at their harnesses, trying to move to the left of the road, down the embankment towards the grass fields. 

Serena squinted. She could barely make out one of the guards, halted in front of the lead wagon, gesturing wildly towards the forest. No doubt he was talking to Pavel.

“Gods, what is the matter with you guys?” Werond asked, hopping off the wagon to soothe the horses. “Boss, you see what’s going on?”

“ _Not…really.”_ Serena signed. “ _One of the guards is yelling about something though. I don’t –”_

Serena’s ears pricked.

A low rumbling, like thunder, began to roll out from the trees.

The guard at the front of the caravan ripped his sword out, yelling something.

Owners and teamsters alike began to point towards the trees, looking around wildly.

Behind Serena, the few guards that remained at the back began to urge their horses towards the front.

Her eyes went wide.

Flooding out from the trees came a wave of green.

Orcs atop huge bipedal birds, beaks the shape of axes, came flooding out from the trees; bristling with arms and armor, they filled the air with war cries that set Serena’s teeth on edge. There were too many to count.

The bellowing wave smashed into the wagons at the front.

The guard and his horse were trampled as the guard wagon was shoved onto its side, wood splintering, as the birds smashed into it with their beaks. The food wagon behind it met the same fate.

A wave of screams ripped through the caravan.

The guards near the back, horrifically outnumbered, raced towards the front without a second thought.

As they did, some of the orcs began to cut down those who’d begun to crawl out of the now ruined wagons, while the rest began to form a moving circle around the front of the caravan.

In front of her, Cruck’aa jumped out of his wagon, and flew into the air.

Serena’s heart smashed into her chest; there were too many, too many orcs, they were outnumbered.

Behind her, teamsters and owners continued began to panic; some remained froze on the wagons, others jumped off, head snapping from the grass to the front, unsure what to do.

Serena leapt off the wagon. “ _Stay here!”_ She yelled at Werond, who remained froze. “ _Hide in the wagon, just stay back!”_

She could barely take a step forwards when a horse came skidding to a halt in front of her, Jo on its back. A bow was in one hand, the other fighting the reins to keep her horse steady. 

“ _Jo!”_ Serena signed. “ _Let me on, we need to –”_

“Something’s not right!” Jo cut her off. “Something’s off, that’s too organized, don’t go to the front yet!”

“ _What?! Jo people are dying! We need to –”_

A roar, loud as a dragon, echoed from the trees.

Serena cringed, covered her ears, and flipped around.

Standing taller than the trees it emerged from, a tanned giant, his face dull and without intelligence, came crashing through the trees towards the caravan.

Jo grabbed Serena’s collar, pulling her back as her horse retreated.

The muscles in the giant’s arms rippled as he swung a club the size of a tree into Serena’s wagon.

It launched into the air, horses screaming in panic, arching off the road and onto the grass.

Her heart stopped.

Serena watched in horror as the wagon exploded into fragments, wood and wheels flying everywhere, horses dying instantly as their backs shattered.

Jo’s horse reared up and screamed.

Howls of terror from the back of the caravan grew.

The giant bellowed again and marched towards Cruck’aa’s wagon; with a single strike, he flung the wagon in the same direction as hers. Birds of all kind shot out from it, flying high into the sky.

The owner of the wagon, still inside, was sent cartwheeling out with them, reaching the same height.

Something moved on the embankment, cowering.

Serena dashed towards it, directly behind the giant, as Jo began to shout.

Werond lay on her stomach, shaking, as she watched the giant bellow again; her wide eyes shifted to Serena, as she slid to a halt next to her.

“ _Gods! You okay!?”_ Serena signed.

“N-no! What the fuck –” Werond stammered. Serena grabbed her and began to drag Werond away from the road.

“ _Hide!”_ She signed with one hand. “ _Wagon! Stay!”_

Werond blinked and shoved herself up; she froze as she watched the giant turn around towards the other wagons.

Serena shoved her towards the remains of their wagon. “ _Go!”_

Werond tripped and tumbled down the embankment. She shot up at the bottom, and Serena watched her go, turning back when Werond dived into the destroyed wagon.

Jo had hopped off her horse, sending the beast running, and began firing arrows at the brute, moving away from the back of the caravan.

The giant ignored her, arrows sticking harmlessly from its flesh, and turned towards the next wagon, Lasfelro’s.

As it raised its club over its head, something grey streaked out from the wagon, smashing into the giant’s head with a sickening crack.

It screamed as what looked like a grey hobgoblin, the size of a horse, began clawing at its face.

Jemna hopped out the wagon after it and threw a small jar at Jo. Serena couldn’t hear her over the screaming.

Jo stopped, and ripped open whatever Jemna gave her, and began dipping arrows into the container. 

Serena froze, heart still smashing into her chest, unsure of what to do.

Another roar sounded from the trees.

More orcs came sprinting out of the woods, rushing towards the back of the caravan, to the teamsters and owner who stood gaping.

The orcs savagely cut them down, burying axes and swords into stomachs and necks alike, splattering gore across the road.

The iron stench of blood began to fill the air. 

They moved to the next, and flipped the wagon over; the owner, an elven woman, tumbled out, the only one in the wagon.

Without pause, an orc buried an axe into her back; he laughed as she jerked once, then lay still. 

Dread burned away in Serena’s chest, replaced by a fire that ignited every inch of her.

Gritting her teeth, she curled her fingers.

A small orb of flame sprang into her hand, and with a grunt, Serena flung it.

It streaked loudly, and impacted one of the orcs, who had pointed towards Lasfelro’s wagon.

He ignited into a maelstrom of flames, incinerating him and the wagon next to him.

The explosion spread out and licked the orcs around him. They screamed, flailing wildly as the fires engulfed them, igniting the grass underfoot.

Serena swore; she’d only taken out half.

The rest of the orcs, a handful, stared in horror at their burning companions; one flipped towards Serena, pointed, and bellowed a challenge.

They began to advance towards her. Serena glanced down the road.

Jo and Jemna danced around the giant, firing arrows, as it continued to grapple with the stone creature on his face.

All the other guards had already run off. 

She was by herself.

Serena sucked in a breath and focused on the flame that burned within her chest.

Flames exploded from her arms, biting the air like a snapping dog, and traveled into her hands.

With a flick, they grew brighter, hotter, as Serena held them up.

The orcs faltered.

Her fingers twisted into signs, the hellfire launching from them as she spat.

“ _Burn in hell!”_

…

With a grunt, Pavel shoved himself to his knees, body aching, as the din of carnage sounded around him. He reached down and grabbed his sword off the ground, before straightening up.

He stood in the wreckage of the guard wagon; the guard who’d tried to warn him lay trampled at his feet, skull caved in.

Pavel staggered around to face the caravan.

And swore.

The third wagon had already been destroyed, dead teamsters scattered among the mutilated cooks; now, the orcs urged their birds around in a massive shifting circle, surrounding what remained of the front part of the caravan, firing arrows at any who still stood.

Pavel ducked as they sailed overhead. The only cover that remained were the two wagons that still stood.

Torno, the thin guard, along with Samardag’s teamster, stood next to them; they screamed at the fat man, who death gripped the side of his wagon. Behind them, another wagon still stood, pocketed with arrows, but with no one in sight.

Pavel raced towards the group.

Samardag refused to move, ugly tears pouring down his face, as Torno and his teamster continued to scream at him.

“No!” Samardag screamed shrilly; he had soiled himself. “No! The arrows! The arrows!”

“You fat fucking oaf!” His teamster bellowed. “Move! Let go the damn –”

A volley of arrows fell.

One pierced the teamster’s throat, another his head, more smashing into the wagon.

Samardag screamed.

The gurgling teamster fell into Torno, who shoved him off.

Her eyes lit up as Pavel stepped around his body.

“Oh, thank the gods!” She yelled over the orc’s cries. “Thought you were dead!” She ducked behind her shield as an arrow impacted stuck in it.

“What’s happening?!” Pavel yelled, ducking another.

“Surrounded! Won’t move in, picking everyone off, need to get under the wagon!”

“No!” Samardag screamed. “The arrows, the arrows –”

A roar from the trees caused Pavel and Torno to flinch and cover their ears.

Samardag screamed louder.

A giant, spanning almost a story, came clambering out of the forest, tree trunk gripped in his hands.

He smashed through the circling orcs, sending some flying, and swung the trunk.

“Down!” Screamed Pavel; he and Torno leapt into the dirt.

Samardag’s scream cut off as the trunk impacted against him.

He and his wagon were ripped in half; pots, coin, guts, and blood flew through the air like a rain shower, painting the road and grass in splatters of red and brown. 

The giant bellowed, raising the trunk over his head in a perverted victory dance.

“Fuck!” Torno screamed as they shoved themselves up. “What the fuck –”

The now broken circle split, as some orcs retreated up the road, towards the middle of the caravan. Seven orcs stayed behind, urging their mounts towards them.

“Focus the orcs!” Pavel spat. 

“And you?!”

“I’ve got him! _”_ He said, pointing at the giant. 

The giant bellowed and swung his trunk, just as the orcs caught up to them.

Pavel and Torno leapt and rolled as the trunk came down, meeting the charging orcs.

Two of them were crushed with a sickening crunch, the screams of their mounts cut off, as their bodies were flattened into the ground.

The orcs screamed and broke off, scattering. The giant whimpered and peered at the flattened bodies.

Pavel shoved himself up, unable to keep his body from shaking.

He screamed a challenge and rushed at the giant. Torno screamed and dashed towards the nearest orc.

The giant stood up, and as it did, Pavel dashed under its legs, and slashed behind its heel.

His arm went numb as he lost his grip, sword lodged into the giant’s skin.

It roared and swiped behind with an empty hand.

Pavel jumped back, almost losing balance, as it barely missed.

He rushed back in towards his sword, as the giant staggered around; without pause, Pavel gripped the blade and yanked it out without breaking stride.

The giant screamed, blood spraying out from the wound; he crashed down on a knee, his leg giving out, trunk slipping from its grasp. 

Pavel flipped around and charged again.

The giant bellowed and swung his hand at the last minute.

Pain ignited through him, and with a crack, Pavel flew back, armor coming off in pieces.

He smashed into the remains of the guard wagon, sending debris flying.

Pavel could barely breath, eyes transfixed on the blue sky above; each gasp sent sharp pain piercing through his chest.

Without the pain, he was sure to have passed out. 

Pavel forced in a breath, more pain lancing through him; somehow, he’d held onto his sword.

He shoved it into the ground, and pulled himself up, staggering to his feet. Blood trickled from his chest.

The giant remained on one knee, whimpering pathetically. Somewhat beyond it, Torno still stood.

Her shield was dented, sword bloody, cuts across her face, but three orcs and two birds lay dead at her feet.

The remaining orcs, still on their mounts, circled her, neither one making a move, as Torno taunted them, smashing her sword against her shield.

From the slump in her stance, she was on her last leg.

Pavel swore, staggered forward, and collapsed on a knee.

The sounds of chaos drifted on the wind, filling his ears with death.

He hadn’t a clue how the other sections of the caravan were doing or if they were even still alive.

How many had died under his watch already? Where had they come from? Why had they attacked _now?_

Torno screamed; an orc landed a lucky slash across her arm, leaning out of the way of a follow up slash.

She staggered backwards, shield raised, as the orcs dismounted and advanced on her.

Pavel ground his teeth.

He shoved himself up, let loose a scream, and charged the giant once more.

It bellowed back and swung an empty hand.

Pavel skirted around it and rushed towards the giants now sloped back.

With a yell, he jumped and stuck his sword into the giant’s back. It screamed as the blade sunk into its thick skin.

He reached up and grabbed the giant’s thick back hair with his freehand, shimmying the blade back out.

The giant swung his hands around his back, unable to reach him as Pavel pulled himself up, and onto its shoulder blades.

He ducked under an open hand; Pavel stepped forward, yelled, and plunged his sword into the top of the giant’s neck.

The blade sunk halfway, before it snapped in half.

The giant screamed, voice shaking the trees. 

“What the fuck?!” Pavel screamed.

He failed to duck again as the giant grabbed him.

Pavel screamed as his ribs cracked loudly.

The giant, fury in its eyes, held Pavel up to his face; its hot breath smashed into him, chocking him with a moist, foul smelling air.

It opened its mouth and pulled Pavel towards it. 

“Fuck you!” He screamed and kicked up.

His boot collided with the giant’s eye; it screamed again and dropped Pavel.

The air was knocked out from him as he dropped almost a story to the ground, his ribs audibly cracking again.

There was no air in his lungs for Pavel to scream.

He sucked in a breath, and barely pushed himself up with his broken sword.

Pavel flipped his head around; Torno was gone, in her place, two dead orcs.

“Torno.” He wheezed, sucking in gulps of air. 

The giant released his face and roared, almost knocking Pavel over. It began to drag itself towards him.

“Torno!” He screamed, lungs filling.

Torno popped up on top of the giant’s head.

Her eyes were wild, and blood coated one side of her face.

“My sword!” Pavel yelled.

The giant stared at him, confused, before raising a hand over his head, to finish Pavel off.

Torno flipped her blade sideways, and with a throaty yell, smashed the flat of it against Pavel’s sword.

The giant jerked, its eyes glazing over.

It wobbled, then began to fall onto its side.

Torno leapt off towards Pavel, just as it impacted the ground with a resounding crash.

It lay still.

Pavel staggered over to Torno, now collapsed on the road. Panting, she waved Pavel’s help away.

“Go!” she gasped. “Rest…needs help, I’ll…catch up.” She pressed her bloodied sword into Pavel’s hands as he bent down to help her. “Take…it.”

Pavel froze as Torno fell onto her side, still gasping. He reached back down to her.

Another bellow came from the middle of the caravan, sending more screams on the wind.

“Go!” Torno yelled.

Pavel swore, but turned on his heel, and took off.

…

Cruck’aa was conflicted.

He held himself up in the sky, wings flapping lazily, as he watched a legion of multicolored birds soar their way into the air. They flew in all directions, chattering happily, finally free of the cages that bound them for so long. Some continued towards the forest, while others flew down the road, sensing that civilization was near. Still, others flew back the way the caravan had come, seeking more calmer winds.

Cruck’aa was happy that they were finally released from their prisons. Yet part of him ached for the birds that weren’t as lucky, unable to escape as the wagon careened through the air.

He glanced down and remembered where he was.

Where the orcs and giants came from, Cruck’aa hadn’t a clue. Yes, they came from the trees, but why they had chosen to attack now, he did not know. 

The middle of the caravan was hit the hardest; two tree armed Hill Giants, as Cruck’aa knew them, along with a large force of orcs atop of Axe-Beaks, had smashed into the side, taking many by surprise. Luckily, most of the caravan guards had intercepted them, on their way towards the front. Bolstered by Larion’s guards, they were ready for the orcs, though not ready fast enough to save Larion’s wagons.

The giants had crushed two before anyone could respond. The resulting explosion of gold and gems and weapons and rugs had stunned the orcs and giants long enough for the guards to push and an offensive.

And now, the road ran red with blood and gore.

Cruck’aa raised his hands up towards the sky, waved them in circles, and mumbled.

Slowly, in time with his movement, dark clouds began to form over him, cumulating into a large, angry looking mass.

They crackled with lightning.

Cruck’aa didn’t have to kill the giants. Just drive them away.

The fighters were split in half, one side fighting one giant, and the other side fighting another. Orcs intermingled between them slashing at whoever they could reach. Off to the side, Azbara stood calmly, hurling spell after spell at one of the giants, the only effect being to distract it from the guards that swarmed its legs.

Cruck’aa mumbled to himself. He knew there was more to the man.

He directed the lighting towards the other giant, before folding his winds, and diving towards the one Azbara fought.

To his left, the lightning arced down and smashed into the giant.

It howled in pain as the sound of sizzling flesh mixed with screams and clashing steel.

Cruck’aa curled in on himself and willed up a memory.

As he fell, his feathers shifted and fused, his body becoming thicker, arms and legs shorter, hairier, face twisting, jaw extending, teeth lengthening.

With a roar, Cruck’aa smashed into the giant’s head in the form of a bear and began to tear away chunks of flesh.

The giant howled in pain and reached up to grab Cruck’aa.

Lightning cracked again, sending out another scream.

Cruck’aa looked up and bit into the giant’s fingers, ripping one off.

Blood sprayed through the air as the giant screamed again, this time in fear.

He began to swing his tree trunk around in panic, aiming at nothing, as Cruck’aa continued clawing.

Chunks of flesh came out from under his claws, blood pouring down the giant’s head like a waterfall.

The giant continued to scream, trampling orcs and guards alike.

Still flailing, his tree trunk collided with the back of the other giant’s head.

With a sickening crunch, the second giant toppled to the ground. 

Cruck’aa grin as the guards leapt on its still form and began sawing at its throat. Blood gushed out, covering them almost completely, making the ground slick. 

He refocused his efforts, digging deeper into the giant’s head, blood gushing over him.

His claws struck bone, scratching with a horrible noise.

The giant screamed one last shrill scream, before dropping its trunk.

It turned and dashed towards the trees, arms flailing.

Cruck’aa leapt from it and landed heavily on the road, almost slipping.

He let loose a laugh, or what passed as one, as the giant trampled through the trees, smashing into them blindly.

An explosion rocketed behind him, filling the air with screams and of muscle tearing from bone.

Cruck’aa turned around; a large group of orcs and Axe-Beaks were still locked in combat with Azbara and the guards.

Before he could move, someone came up the road.

Cruck’aa flipped towards him and reared up on his back legs.

It was Pavel. 

His half plate was cracked, various parts coming off. Blood coated his arms and chest, and his eyes seemed to hold an almost demonic fire in them.

They stared at one another, both huffing.

Pavel nodded once towards Cruck’aa, still standing, before he turned towards the orcs.

He raised his bloody sword over his head, let loose a primal scream, and charged into the fray.

Cruck’aa dropped down, and sprinted after him, eager for orc blood.

…

After what felt like hours, the sounds of carnage and death began to die down, until only silence filled the air.

Werond had crawled into the back of their wagon, it’s frame partially intact. Refusing to look at the horses that lay broken outside, she had grabbed the silks and curled up within, laying on what used to be the wall of the wagon, hiding amongst the fabric like a child in a timeout.

Her heart slammed against her chest; each scream, each explosion, every sound kept it on edge. Even now, with silence filling the air, it refused to calm.

Werond tightened the sheets over her; sweat had begun to bead on her back, so well did the silks trap her heat.

She wished she could do something, aside from stand and gawk. Jo and Pavel could fight, Cruck’aa could do whatever he did, Serena could manifest fire from her own thoughts. What could she do? Cower in a wagon. Hope to the gods that her side would come out on top.

It would. She knew it would. It had to.

“Gods…” Werond groaned.

She wanted to shove herself out of the silks, jump out the wagon, and breath a sigh of relief. She wanted everything to be fine, Serena and everyone else heroically saving the caravan. She wanted everything left just as it was. And she would only know if she checked.

But she couldn’t.

The dread of what might have happened weighed her down; Werond’s limbs refused to cooperate, so great was that fear.

Her breathing quickened, coming out in short gasps. 

Werond’s mind seemed to race on its own, conjuring up thought after thought of everything that could have gone wrong. Images of her friends, bloody and broken, filled her mind, paralyzing her. She tried to push them away, and failed, the thoughts amplifying within her mind.

Werond gasped and forced her hands under her. Sweat fell from her face as her arms struggled to support her.

She had to get out. She had to run. She had to do _something._ If she didn’t, she’d suffocate, Werond was sure of it. 

She wiped the sweat from her face, almost collapsing back into the silks.

With a grunt, Werond pulled her legs under her, and tried to push up, a challenge in the sideways wagon. 

Her body refused to listen; legs sore, Werond sat hunched over on her heels, struggling to breath.

She was going to suffocate. Choke to death on cheap silks, in the back of a destroyed wagon.

Anger at the thought flooded through her chest. She focused on it, finally shoving away the thoughts of broken friends.

With a grunt of effort, Werond reached up, body tight, and grabbed part of the ruined frame.

She grunted again and tried to pull herself up.

Her strength gave out halfway, and she collapsed back in the silks.

Werond swore. Tears poured down her face.

Why was she a coward, why was she so determined to die in the back of a – 

A knock sounded from the wooden frame. 

Werond jerked, heart in her throat, and fell onto her back, tangling the sheets.

“Who’s there?!” She yelled, voice quavering.

The knock sounded again, this time closer, coming from the hole that Werond had climbed through.

Someone climbed in.

“Stop!” She yelled. “Don’t get closer, _please_!”

Hands suddenly gripped the sheets over Werond; they yanked at the silks, trying to untangle and rip them off her.

Werond screamed, and began thrashing, kicking at her assailant as she tried to rip the silks off herself.

Her boot connected with flesh; the assailant released the silks and tumbled back out the wagon.

Werond let out a yell and ripped the last of the silks off her.

Gripping the broken frame, she hauled herself up, and crawled out of the wagon, ready to dash towards the road.

She yelled.

Serena lay on the ground; her hands were cupped over her face, and she writhed in the grass. 

“Serena?!” Werond screamed, dropping on top of her. “Oh gods, I didn’t know – you didn’t say – fuck!” Shame washed over her at the realization; who else would have known that she was in the wagon? “Gods, Serena, I’m so, so sorry, let me see, please!”

Werond grabbed Serena’s wrists, and pulled her hands away.

Serena’s eyes were glassy, blood trickled from her nose; her hair was a mess, out of its usual ponytail, her tunic was torn in several places, dirt was rubbed against her face, but aside from all that, Serena seemed fine.

“Oh, thank god!” Werond breathed, releasing Serena’s wrists. “Oh, thank the gods –”

“ _You kicked me!”_ Serena signed indignantly.

“I know! I know, gods, I didn’t know who it was –”

“ _I knocked! No one else knew where you were!”_

“I know, I…” The tears flowed before Werond could stop them. “Gods, I was so _scared_.”

Serena’s anger melted away, and her eyes wide.

“ _Did something happen?”_ She signed.

Werond exploded.

“Did something?!” She screamed, grabbing Serena’s face. “I couldn’t do anything! I had to listen to everything and try not to _piss_ myself Serena! Gods, all I could do was pray for you and Pavel and Cruck’aa and – and – and,” Werond shuddered. “I’ve never been in something like that before! What was I supposed to do but panic?!”

Serena stared wide eyed at Werond, hands against her chest.

Werond released her face and slide off her, body shaking.

“Gods, I’m screaming about me and your nose is bleeding, let me get a thing of silk –”

Serena waved a hand as she sat up; her fingers jerked, light flashed from them, and the blood disappeared. 

Werond’s shoulders slumped.

“I can’t even fix my mistakes.” She said.

Heat flooded into her face.

Werond swore and clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head; she waved a hand as Serena began to sign in panic.

“Don’t, that wasn’t fair of me, I…” She sucked in a shaky breath. “I’m not myself right now, sorry Serena.”

“ _No, it’s fine, it’s okay!”_ Serena waved her off. “ _Really. But…gods, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about all that, I…are you going to be okay?”_

No – was the answer that Werond wanted to say. Not after all that. But something in Serena’s eyes told her that she couldn’t say that.

Werond sucked in another breath and wiped the tears away.

“I…don’t know. I don’t. Are…is the rest of the caravan alright?”

Serena’s eyes suddenly hardened. She shook her head.

“ _There’s barely anyone left. Pavel, Jo, and Cruck’aa made it but…not many others did.”_ Serena shoved herself up and offered a hand to Werond. “ _Come on, we need to get back to them.”_

A weight settled into Werond’s chest.

Her mouth hung open, but as she began to speak, Serena shook her head. She reached down and grabbed Werond’s arm, pulling her up.

Without speaking, and without letting go, Serena began leading her back towards the embankment.

Werond had focused so much on Serena that she didn’t see the other wagons that lay wrecked on the grass.

The shattered remains of Cruck’aa’s wagon lay to the left, the frame split down the middle. Some ways away lay the equally shattered body of Cruck’aa’s employer; he lay face up, eyes glazed over, arms at odd angles, his lower body twisted so much that he looked like a broken doll.

Bile rose in the back of Werond’s throat, and she looked away. He didn’t deserve that.

As they climbed the embankment, her breath caught in her throat.

There was only one wagon left sitting in the middle of the road, the end wagon of the caravan. Run by a posh elf known as Lai, he and his teamsters lay cut down next to the wheels, gashes in their backs still bleeding onto the road. In front of them lay the burned shell of another wagon, around which laid the charred remains of multiple orcs, all in various stages of incineration, all curled up like dead bugs. The smell of their cooked flesh, not unsimilar to sizzling bacon, caused Werond to vomit off the side of the road.

As Serena held her hair back, Werond glanced away; where their wagon had sat now lay the form of the giant that had caused the carnage. Most of its body was devoid of wounds, save for the numerous gashes that covered its head, as though something had removed chunks of its skin with a jagged blade. Multiple arrows stuck out of its head, and Jemna, who sat on the giant’s thick neck, meticulously pulled each one out, taking care not to snap them. Below her stood Jo, staring at –

“What the fuck?” Werond asked between dry heaves.

A stone statue the size of a horse, depicting a winged hobgoblin lost in thought, sat in the middle of the road. Lasfelro leaned against it, smiling as Jo walked around it, studying it from every angle. 

“ _I don’t know.”_ Serena signed. “ _But it flew out and helped kill that thing, so I’ll take it.”_

Werond wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, and straightened up, wobbling slightly. Serena grabbed her, face twisted in worry.

“Well, lets go find out, huh?” She said, forcing a smile. Serena nodded, and they continued down the road.

“…worth a pretty coin!” Jemna said shrilly, as they walked within earshot. “Ole Lassie here has had it in his wagon the whole trip! Security reasons, of course. And he was moaning a couple of night ago that he wouldn’t be able to use it!”

“Yeah…I can see why you’d be upset.” Jo said, peering at the petrified face. “Thing did a number on fatty over here.”

“That it did!” Jemna’s head snapped towards them, as they stopped just short of the statue. “Well, look who showed up!” She pointed a still bloody arrow at Werond. “I saw ya run with ya tail between ya legs when everything popped up! Kinda chickenshit if you ask me!”

More shame flooded into Werond’s chest, and she looked away.

“ _Jemna,”_ Serena signed. _“lay off. No one asked for your opinion.”_

“Well, I’m going to give it –”

“ _Jemna! Shut up!”_

“Oh, did I touch –”

Jemna squealed as a bolt of fire impacted the giant’s skin, just under where she was sitting. She fell off the back of the giant, and out of sight, landing with an audible _THUD_ behind it.

Jo laughed. Lasfelro only smiled.

“ _Bitch.”_ Serena mumbled, before turning towards Werond. “ _Sorry. Not going to listen to that.”_

“It’s uh…fine. We’re…” her chest tightened again. “you said Pavel and Cruck’aa made it?”

“Yup,” Jo spoke up. “They and some others made it.” She jerked a thumb at the hulking body that lay in the middle of the road. “Can’t really see anything until you walk around this thing. But unfortunately, besides them, no one else made it.”

“No one?”

Jo nodded. “I think we have three? Four wagons left? Maybe a little over ten people. Down from…I don’t know, forty-five we had before? That right?” She asked Lasfelro, who only shrugged.

Beside her, Serena ran her hands over her face, shoulders suddenly slumping.

Werond turned towards her, shame returning; she had been so preoccupied with what could have happened, she’d forgotten to check on Serena.

“Hey…are you okay?” she asked.

Serena kept her face buried. Before Werond could ask again, she dropped them.

She looked as though she hadn’t slept in days.

“ _I’m fine. Right now, I guess. I feel…numb. I think.”_ She sighed. _“I feel like I should be more broken up about everything. But I’m not.”_

“Don’t dig yourself into that hole.” Jo said, walking over to Serena. “Not saying don’t mourn, but don’t do it now. We’ve still got problems; you need to be fresh.”

“What?” Werond asked. “What else do we need to do?”

Jo shot a look at Lasfelro; the man shrugged, pushed off the statue, and walked around the back of the giant’s body, out of sight.

Jo turned back towards them. 

“Larion’s wagons got hit. Well, two of them did. There’s a ton of gold and other wealth scattered across the road back there.” Jo jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Unfortunately, Azbara and Larion both made it. And now that the cats out of the bag…well, if they’re smart, they’ll make something happen.” She held her hands up as Werond began to speak. “Wait, just listen. We,” she gestured at Serena. “just got done talking to Jemna. We’re going to take her, and Lasfelro, up on their off for help. But Serena needs to help; I only saw a little, but Azbara was flinging spells earlier. We need Serena to counter all that, if she can, so we decided that Lasfelro will keep you protected, if Serena came back with you…which she did. I saw him stab an orc, he knows what he’s doing. You’ll be safe, okay?”

Werond stared, unable to speak.

“ _I don’t think just dumping all that on her, after all this,”_ Serena gestured around her. “ _really helped anything Jo.”_

“No, but this is going to explode here pretty fast, and she needs to be aware. You good Werond?”

Werond continued to stare; what was she supposed to say to all _that_?

“I…I guess.” She decided.

“Good. Let’s go then.”

Jo turned and followed in Lasfelro’s footsteps, disappearing around the dead giant.

As she did, Werond turned towards Serena.

“What the fuck?” was all she could say.

Serena shook her head.

“ _I hate it too. Come on, we need to get going.”_

She took a step forward, then stopped. Serena turned back towards Werond.

“ _I know what she said, about Lasfelro and being safe. But if something happens…I’m running or teleporting back to you. I said I’ll keep you safe, and I plan on keeping that promise, okay? So, whatever happens…don’t panic. I’ve got it.”_ She paused. “ _I think.”_

Despite everything, Werond cracked a smile.

“I was with you till the end there.”

Serena smiled back and gestured for her to follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny enough, I left out a lot of events and fights that happened before we got to Waterdeep. There was actually quite a bit more fights, but I didn't want to write all of them, so I settled on one giant one near the end. The issue, which I didn't think of until after Daggerford, was that I gave little to no characterization towards a large section of the caravan. So, when I wrote this, I had no idea how much of an impact people dying would be. At that point, I had to focus on the carnage itself, rather than who specifically died, more often than not. 
> 
> My DM said that, when this happened, he rolled a dice and that's what decided who would have died. Werond was not immune, and somehow, she escaped unharmed in the actual game. Honestly though, I don't know how much I believe him; I think he was enjoying the relationship between her and Serena a bit too much. But what do I know? He reads this too, he'll probably yell at me later!
> 
> Love ya Joey!


	27. How Many Left?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this chapter, we're one more away from finally being done with the caravan! If you had asked me before I wrote this, and asked how long I thought this section would be, I wouldn't have said this long. 
> 
> Still, I'm glad I finally have proper buildups for all the relationship and drama that's in store for later! Makes the story so much better!
> 
> Thanks again for the read!

The caravan was destroyed.

Of the thirteen wagons that formed the train, three remained. Lasfelro’s, the wagon behind his, and one of Larion’s; just one other stood in the road, but the damage sustained to its frame and wheels meant that it would collapse the moment it moved.

The rest of the wagons lay in various stages of destruction; some were flipped onto their sides, horses still attached, making it impossible to right them. Others had their frames smashed in specific places, ensuring that they would fall apart the moment they moved. Others still were completely destroyed, shattered upon impact, contents and drivers flung away.

Many of the caravan members met their fate in a similar way. Among the ruined wagons lay the mangled and twisted bodies of owners and teamsters alike. Even from where the giant had fallen at the back of the caravan, bodies littered the road, no one like the other. The lucky ones had been killed instantly, either flung into the air or trampled to death. Drag marks lay etched into the ground around the unlucky ones, where they pulled themselves along, wounds not yet fatal, before they died in agony. Orcs and birds mixed with them, each body in twisted positions, crimson wounds open to the sky; they had suffered the same amount of death as the caravan had.

Blood soaked into the road, covering whole swathes, filling the air with the stench of iron. Barely any of the road remained visible, so completely did the pools of crimson coat it. Mixed among the sickening scent of blood came the whiff of clogged sewers, the smell of feces taking Werond by surprise.

She didn’t know what death would smell like, having never been exposed to carnage on such a scale. Covering her nose, she prayed the stench would pass.

The explosions she’d heard earlier, Werond realized, was the smashing of Larion’s wagons; two had been destroyed in a similar fashion as theirs had, the contents of each blasting across the Trade Way. In some spots, the piles of gold reflected the light of day so brightly that it blinded Werond, sunspots forming in her vision. In other places, ornate chairs lay ripped apart, weapons were scattered like discarded children toys, and rugs were unfurled everywhere, some had even landed in the trees that the orcs had come out of.

All of it laid bare to the open sky, all of it stained by the blood that pooled here and there, and from the franticness of Larion, crouched among the wealth, all of it was to be retrieved.

Serena had to pull Werond along; Jemna and Lasfelro were already at the middle of the caravan, with the rest of the survivors. Jo had waited for them on the other side of the giant’s body.

“You two going to be okay?” Jo asked, a touch of concern in her voice.

“ _No.”_ Serena signed. “ _But we don’t have time for a breakdown right now.”_

“Are you sure?” Werond asked, voice unsteady.

Jo laughed and continued down the road. Serena stepped in front of Werond.

“ _Are you sure you’ll be okay?”_ Her eyes were wide. “ _You can wait off the side of the embankment if you –”_

“No, I’m fine, I just…need to get used to it.” Werond said. “But…are _you_ going to be okay?”

Serena sighed. “ _I told you, I feel like I should feel something, but I don’t. Maybe later…let’s just go.”_

She stepped back and locked arms with her, pulling Werond towards the rest of the carnage.

In the middle of the road stood Larion’s last wagon, and everyone who survived the skirmish seemed clustered around it. Towards the back of the wagon, closer to them, Pavel, his armor broken and coated in blood, had been grabbing the bodies of caravan members, and moving them off the road and down the embankment; there, he laid them side by side, folding hands over chests if they still had them. His stony face gave away no trace of thought. The thin guard from the night before, whose name Werond could not remember, assisted Pavel, sorting and cleaning the bodies up as best she could. From the limp and angry cuts that traced her body, she had seemed to face the worst of the fighting.

From the count of the armored bodies that littered the road, they were the only guards left.

Jemna and Lasfelro stood away from the wagon, silent, and eyed the absurd amount of coin that lay on the ground. Cruck’aa, who stood on the opposite side of the road, could not hide his own shock, as he examined different piles of objects, glancing over chairs and weapons alike. Occasionally, he mumbled to himself, his eyes remaining wide. 

Sticking out, Larion hunched over the middle of the road, scooping as much coin and gems as he could into his arms; sweat beaded down his face as he piled the wealth into his ripped tunic, and frantically carried it to the front of his wagon, dumping it near the wheels. A crazed look filled his eyes, and he ignored all else as he strove to recover the spilled wealth.

With the sheer number of valuables spilled, it would take the better part of a year.

Azbara, looking as though nothing noteworthy had occurred, stood in front of the wagon, speaking gently to the still panicking horses attached to the front. The only indication that he’d even participated in the fight, came from the specks of blood that dotted his face. Werond wondered how much more was hidden by the color of his robes.

He side-eyed them as Serena, Werond, and Jo stopped alongside Jemna and Lasfelro, but said nothing. 

Serena released Werond’s arm and walked over to Pavel. Werond inched over to Lasfelro, who gave her a knowing nod.

“ _Pavel?”_ Serena signed as she approached at the edge of the embankment. 

The guard stopped, and turned towards Serena, a deep weariness in her eyes. Pavel, however, dropped the next body off, and began to walk back up.

“ _Pavel?”_ Serena signed again, concern creeping into her voice.

He reached the top, and brushed past her, moving to the next body.

Werond’s chest tightened. His eyes held that same look she’d seen after Vanet’s death. 

He paused at side of a body, that of a guard ripped in half, gore splattered against the road like paint flung at a canvas. His shoulders slumped as he contemplated how to move it.

Serena jogged over and stood in front of him. 

“ _Pavel!”_ She yelled.

The captain of the guard blinked and looked up, as though it was the first time Serena had called to him.

“ _Are…are you okay?”_ She asked; the tips of her ears began to turn red. “ _I, I know, stupid, but…you didn’t say anything.”_ Serena glanced down and grimaced. “ _Do you need help burying them?”_

Pavel stared back down at the body. He slowly looked up, and turned towards Werond and the others, standing off to the side.

He looked back towards Serena.

“I think…” Pavel said slowly. “there’s too many. Probably…need to burn them or…something.”

Serena nodded.

“ _I can do that. Not too tired yet, but we’d have to…bunch everyone up.”_ She looked at Werond and the others. “ _Can you all help out?”_

Her voice was soft, almost pleading. 

Werond nodded, and began to step forward, when Lasfelro reached out and grabbed her arm. Not unkindly, he pulled her back behind himself and shook his head.

Werond’s stomach turned.

“Well, I would! I really would.” Jemna said, taking a step forward, gesturing with her bow. “Gotta wonder why Larion and Baldy over here ain’t helping ya though.”

Larion shot off the ground, coins and gems flying from his shirt.

“Are you kidding me?!” He screamed, eyes frantic, veins bulging. “We need to gather all this back up! They’re going to come back and take it and I need it now! Fuck, help me with this!”

Larion bent back down and moved to scoop more coins up; his foot slipped in a puddle of blood and mud, and he came crashing down. He pushed himself back up, tears now rolling down his face, as he struggled to gather the spilled wealth.

Some part of Werond pitied him; regardless of what the wealth meant to him, transporting it remained his only job. She couldn’t imagine looking at such an impossible task and trying to find a solution.

She felt for him, but not enough to move to help Larion. The sentiment seemed to be felt from everyone else.

Azbara stepped forward, horses finally calmed. He eyed his companion, still on the ground.

“While I don’t share the same…feelings Mr. Keenblade has towards all this, I do confess that I agree with him. Captain, if we could halt the burial process, that would be –”

Pavel whirled around, causing Serena to jump. 

“How _dare_ you ask that!” Pavel screamed, veins bugling in his neck. “How many of my men died so you could stand there and fucking ask me that?! How many people like your _boss_ died so that he can sob on the ground over money?! Don’t you fucking ask anything of me again, not after that!”

Larion flinched and fell back into the mud and coin. Azbara gave no reaction.

“ _Pavel.”_ Serena signed to his back.

“Nah, nah,” Jemna said, stepping forward; beside her, Jo tightened her grip on her bow. “ole Pavel here got a right to be mad. Figures a Dragon Cultist would be more concerned with all that coin anyhow.”

Everyone stiffened, save Azbara.

He smiled.

Werond’s heart slammed into her chest.

“And how long have you known?” He asked. “Since Daggerford?”

Larion shot up, more coins flying, and ran towards Pavel; his eyes never left Azbara as Larion grabbed at Pavel’s tunic.

“He’s the cultist, not me!” Larion whined, tugging at Pavel like a child. “I got roped into this, they tricked me, none of this is even my money! You’ve got to believe me, I’m not with him, I swear!”

Pavel shoved Larion back onto the road, who cowered at his feet; he took a step towards Azbara, drawing his sword, as Larion scampered around Serena and down the embankment.

As he did, Lasfelro stepped backwards, laid his hand on Werond’s shoulder, and continued to back up, pulling her with him.

Serena inched around Pavel towards the middle of the road, as Jo walked towards the other side, arrow in hand. Cruck’aa, eyeing her, moved up, until he stood on the other side of Azbara, some feet away from him, further down the road.

The robed man was surrounded.

“Ah,” he said. “so, you all knew? Hmm. Looks as though we weren’t as hidden as we thought.”

“Knew from the minute you joined; you were bad news.” Cruck’aa spat.

“What? Was it the robes? Standard everyday garb where I come from.”

“Never was able to trust a bald man.” Jo said.

Azbara smiled. “Well, haven’t heard _that_ one before.”

“Azbara,” Pavel interrupted. “I will say this once, stand down. We can settle this peacefully, no need for more fighting.”

“Oh captain,” Azbara replied, still smiling. “I do believe we’re past that point.”

Pavel stepped forward.

Azbara flung a hand from his robes.

Three brilliant orbs of fire streaked out.

One smashed into Pavel; he staggered back, as the bolt exploded against his chest piece.

One flew over Jo’s head as she flattened herself on the ground.

One streaked down the middle, aimed directly towards Werond and Lasfelro.

Serena stepped towards it.

It exploded against her chest and threw her to the ground.

Werond screamed. Lasfelro seized and yanked her back.

Twin arrows flew and pierced Azbara’s chest and leg. He grunted.

Cruck’aa raised his hands, mumbling, as clouds began to swirl above them.

Azbara’s eyes flicked upwards. 

_CRACK_

Werond flinched, as Lasfelro covered his ears.

The clouds dissipated as soon as they came. Cruck’aa swore, staring in shock.

Recovered, Pavel launched himself at Azbara, screaming, sword raised.

Azbara vanished in a silver mist.

Pavel flipped around, eyes frantic; Jo and Jemna notched arrows; Cruck’aa moved towards them; Serena struggled to push herself up.

Another puff of mist.

Azbara slammed a boot into Serena’s chest, forcing her back down, and the air out of her lungs.

Werond struggled against Lasfelro’s grip, screaming to be released. The silent man shook his head, a look of worry etched across his face.

Azbara pointed a palm towards Serena, smile still on his lips.

“Now, now!” He said, raising a finger as Jemna and Jo took aim. “Any moves and she’s gone. Wouldn’t want that, right?”

They froze.

Heart in her throat, Werond watched in horror as Jemna and Jo lowered their bows, scowling.

Pavel and Cruck’aa stepped forward. Fire lit in Azbara’s hand.

“Gentlemen, not a step further.” The robed man said in a honied voice; Pavel and Cruck’aa halted. “Now, unless you wish your friend to end up like everyone else today,” Werond felt her knees give way. “drop your weapons and walk down the embankment. I’ll be leaving now. Won’t touch a hair on her head if you do so.”

Cruck’aa stared with unrestrained fury.

“What, so you can murder her anyways?!” He spat.

Azbara shook his head.

“No, no, my fine feathered friend. I’m a man of my word. Move aside, and –”

Serena jerked.

Azbara looked down at her. Cruck’aa and Jo stiffened. Pavel yelled. 

With a flick, Serena had flung a bead of orange at Azbara’s face.

He frowned.

_CRACK_

Werond covered her ears.

The bead disappeared halfway, snuffed out like a candle.

Serena gritted her teeth. Her fingers twitched.

_CRACK_

The bead reappeared and continued its path.

Azbara swore.

It blossomed into a fireball, engulfing him in angry orange flames; it curved around Serena just enough not to burn her, igniting an outline of her body in the road.

Yells of panic filled the air. Pavel rush towards them.

The flames dissipated; Azbara stumbled back out of them, covered in raging flames; he was silent, and made no move to put them out.

Twin arrows thudded into his neck and chest, causing him to jerk.

Pavel reached him.

He drove his sword through Azbara’s back and out his burning chest, burying it up to the hilt, and jumped back.

The red robed man, still engulfed, staggered forwards.

Two more arrows sprouted from his head.

He stumbled back, slipped, and fell to the ground, blade shoved through his chest.

He lay still.

Silence filled the air, save for the sound of his burning flesh. A collective breath was released, as everyone visibly relaxed.

Serena jerked with a silent cough. 

Werond ripped herself from Lasfelro and sprinted towards her, just as Pavel skirted around Azbara’s burning body, and fell onto his knees next to Serena. Werond slid to a halt above her head, just as everyone else converged.

Her tunic was burned, her chest was bruised, and half of an eyebrow was singed. But she was breathing, a pained smile on her face.

“ _I uh –”_ she signed.

“Serena!” Pavel screamed, checking over her. “What the hell?!”

“What did you do?!” Werond echoed him, grabbing Serena’s head in both hands.

“ _Uhm…threw a fireball, made it…not hit me.”_ She grimaced as Pavel pushed on a spot on her chest. “ _Mostly not hit me.”_ Her signs came out slow, and she grimaced as though it took the last of her strength to speak.

“Why did you jump into the firebolt earlier?!” Cruck’aa demanded, leaning in. “You’re not wearing any armor or anything! You could have burned to death!”

“ _Thought…it was going for Werond.”_

Serena leaned her head back and gave a small smile towards Werond. Cruck’aa straightened up and let loose a slew of words that probably were curse words, had Werond understood them. 

Heat rose in Werond’s face.

“That’s not okay!” she yelled, as tears began to roll down. “That was so incredibly _stupid!_ I appreciate it but you could have died!”

“ _So could you.”_

Werond blinked.

“Ah! If she’s talking, she’s fine!” Jemna yelled; she pointed towards the burn mark across her chest. “It’ll give her a wicked scar now too! Unless she heals it. Which she shouldn’t!”

Lasfelro leaned over Werond, glancing down.

“As scars always tell the greatest stories.” He said, in a rich voice. “But of course, now you know, you’ll never do that again. Right?”

Serena’s smiled wider.

“ _I can’t promise that.”_ She signed. “ _Not if it’s going to hurt one of you guys.”_

“Serena,” Jo said. “seriously, you can’t be doing that. We’re not in some cheesy story, theatrics like that will get you killed.”

“Okay!” Pavel yelled, pushing himself up. “We can save the lecture for later. You’re going to be okay, right?” Serena nodded. “Good. Now, we’ve got things to do. Mainly, getting the wagons ready, and figuring out what to do with…all this.” Pavel gestured broadly. “Jo, go get the wagons together, we can shove Serena into one until she’s rested up. Jemna, Lasfelro, and Cruck’aa, work together to figure out what we’re going to do with the damned money. Hell if I’m leaving most of it.” He eyed the embankment. “Now, I need to have a conversation with the coward down there.”

Serena didn’t get up as the group began to disperse. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“You going to be okay?” Werond asked, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

“ _Yup.”_ Serena signed. “ _Just…need a minute.”_

“Okay.” Werond said.

They remained there, in the road, covered in dirt and mud. Werond had yet to release Serena’s head. Larion’s screams of terror began to echo from down the embankment; Cruck’aa, Jemna, and Lasfelro, from further away, suddenly took up a heated argument about the best way to go about collecting all the spilled coin. Werond hadn’t a clue where Jo went.

“Serena.” Werond said quietly.

Serena opened her eyes; they’d changed color again, now a pale blue.

“Please never give me a heart attack like that again.” Werond said; she leaned down and kissed the top of Serena’s head. “But thank you.”

Serena snapped her eyes shut, as a blush began to creep across her face and ears.

Despite everything that had happened that day, Werond couldn’t help but grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't know, the CRACKs are supposed to be Counterspells.   
> Why did I make them make that noise? Because it's fucking cool, that's why.


	28. A Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I'll be honest, I was extremely distracted with this one. A bunch of other things were on my mind that I wanted to do, and coupled with the terrible way I started it, it just felt more like a chore to complete than anything else. I really hate it when that happens.   
> Well, regardless, it's done. On to the next!

“Get in!”

“I-I’m going, gods!” Larion squeaked, as Cruck’aa prodded him into the back of his wagon. He followed as Larion hopped up and jogged to the center of the room and jumped into a cushioned chair. Across from him, next to Serena and in his own chair, Pavel yelled to the front. 

“You’re good Jo!”

The snapping of reigns echoed from the front of the wagon. Horses whinnying, it picked up and resumed its normal course, having slowed down just enough for everyone to climb in.

It had taken the rest of yesterday to gather up the remaining three wagons and to figure out what to do with most of the wealth that lay scattered about the road. Serena had missed most of the arguments, as she’d crawled into the back of the remaining wagon to sleep off her soreness; when Werond had woken her back up, the sun had already set. Pavel and Torno wanted to unroll one of the ornate rugs into the back of the wagon, along with the remaining silks that had survived her wagon’s destruction. Evidently, the wagon was to be used as sleeping quarters for the remainder of the trip.

Werond had filled Serena in on much that she’d missed as they waited for Pavel and Torno to shove the rug into the wagon. Though much of the caravan had been destroyed, they’d been able to salvage what little remained of the food wagon, finding just enough rations to get them comfortably to Waterdeep, should they catch something to eat that night. And thanks to Cruck’aa, they did. 

Through mouthfuls of salted deer, Werond had informed her that, along with Cruck’aa, Pavel, and Jo, she was now rich. Larion had wet himself when Pavel came walking down the embankment, and promised away his entire horde of wealth, should nothing happen to him. Pavel had no intention of hurting the pathetic man, despite his attempts to hide under one of the bodies but couldn’t refuse such an offer. Thus, the front wagon of the depleted caravan, Larion’s remaining wagon, now belonged to the four of them, along with everything in it. Larion didn’t seem broken up by it whatsoever, and from what Serena could see, as he assisted in gathering the rest of the spilled wealth, the once three-time wagon owner seemed almost relieved; he’d later confessed that he planned on running once they reached Waterdeep, and the massive amount of gold would only slow him down. 

The news had shocked Serena; the vast amount of wealth that had been scattered over the road was a huge amount, but to promise away an entire wagon of it stunned her. A further shock came when Werond off-handily mentioned that she didn’t want a cut, and that whatever Serena promised to pay her at the end of the trip was more than enough. And no amount of arguing could change her mind.

Werond had switched topics as Serena kept asking for reassurances, informing her that much of the wealth that was spilled had been recovered, though there remained a plethora of coin hidden in the grass and trees. Much of it had been stuffed into the back of Lasfelro’s wagon, with everyone agreeing that it was his and Jemna’s cut.

And that, as Werond had said as they crawled back into the now cozier wagon, was all that Serena missed. All that remained was for everyone to get a good night’s rest, before they finished the last leg of the trip to Waterdeep.

Though Jo and Pavel took first watch that night, rotating out with Cruck’aa and Torno, the back of the wagon was still cramped; when everyone had woken up the next morning, not a soul seemed well rested. 

Breakfast had to be eaten on the move. Pavel had forced the three wagons to move at daybreak and claimed that he didn’t want to waste any more time. After a small cremation and moment of silence for those who didn’t survive, Jo took the first shift driving the lead wagon. Torno followed close behind in what had been dubbed the “Sleeper Wagon”, with Lasfelro and Jemna following some feet back in their own. The rest of them ate their breakfast of cold, slightly dirty bread, all bunched together in the back of the Sleeper, before they hopped off, and jumped into the back of Larion’s old wagon. Pavel had wanted to talk.

Somehow, the night before, Pavel had found cushioned chairs amidst the piles of wealth and had arranged them in a circle in the middle of the wagon. He and Serena were already in their chairs by the time Larion sank down into his, trying to look as small as possible while facing them.

Cruck’aa plopped down next to Serena, beak hanging open. Try as he might, Cruck’aa failed to hide his amazement at the sight of the massive treasure room and all its splendor, coin piles touching the ceiling and all manner of wonderous and expensive items poking out of them. None of it phased Serena, however. She had seen better.

Werond stayed behind, citing a need for more sleep and lack of desire to listen to whatever Larion had to say.

Serena frowned. She couldn’t blame her, but despite only being in the next wagon over, she couldn’t shove aside the thought of Werond not being with her.

“Alright,” Pavel said, leaning back in his chair. “I believe I can speak for everyone when I say that we’d like answers. On everything. The cult, wealth, Azbara, everything. Least you can do, I think, for us saving your life.” 

“Alright, uhm…” Larion said, flattening himself even further in his chair. “w-well, where should I start?”

“Really?” Cruck’aa asked with narrowed eyes. “I would imagine from when you were contacted by the cult, you idiot.”

“R-right, right!”

Larion sucked in a deep breath and held it. He released it after a moment, his voice now steady.

“Okay. I was approached by some…cultist members, I guess, back in Baldur’s Gate. They had a proposition for me. They needed a huge amount of treasure and coin moved from the city, across the Trade Way, and into Waterdeep; because I’ve made the trip before multiple times, I was their prime candidate. Now, I didn’t like these guys from the beginning, something seemed off. But I’d be damned if they didn’t pay up. Thousand gold up front, and another thousand once the job was done. More than a year’s contract for me. So, I accepted. Don’t look at me like that, how could I not? It was a lot of gold.” He scratched his neck. “Well, I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and that hit doubly hard when they showed up with three wagons _full_ of the stuff. You all see this,” he gestured around himself “it was ridiculous. Still is! I freaked out. Way too much money, and not enough details, and I wanted out. Too, too fishy. One of the cultists, nicer than the rest, offered to fill me in on everything so I wasn’t in the dark. Which…helped, I guess.”

“What were the details?” Pavel asked.

“Just how they planned on getting everything together. The horde was going to the Mere of Dead Men, if you’ve ever heard of it. Apparently, there’s a giant in some floating castle – I know, I didn’t believe it either – and he’s holding a horde of…treasure, I guess, for the cult. Guess he’s an ally or something. There are other caravans full of gold and fancy weapons coming from all over the coast, and they’re all headed to the Mere. Once they load everything up, they plan on flying the castle over to a place called the Well of Dragons. Apparently, the horde is going to be given to a dragon or something? I dunno, he wasn’t too clear on that.”

“ _I told you.”_ Serena signed flatly; frustration rose in her chest as Cruck’aa shook his head, though Pavel seemed convinced.

Before she could ask why Cruck’aa still looked unconvinced, a thought popped into her head; Serena signed at Larion, “ _Wait, were you going to go through Waterdeep then? Because I think the Mere is above it on a map.”_

“Oh no!” Larion shook his head. “They inspect the carts and take a cut from what the contents are worth. We would have lost a huge chunk. Oddly enough, they really don’t care if you’ve got giant piles of gold, just so long as they get their taxes levied. No, they told me to park the wagons outside the walls at night. Apparently, there’s an inn that has a tunnel that leads to the outside of Waterdeep, and they watch it pretty religiously.”

“Really?” Pavel asked. “That’s quite the security concern.”

“Of course! That’s why it’s hidden pretty well. Apparently, they’re paying off the Thieves Guild for its usage.” 

“Well, I’m sure the guards over at Waterdeep would love to hear about that.”

“I’ll be honest, I think they already know.”

“What?!” Cruck’aa yelled. “That’s absurd, you’re calling the guard corrupt?!”

“H-hey hey,” Larion said, raising his hands. “not all of them! Just…some I think.”

“If it’s only some, then why isn’t the hole plugged up?”

“I don’t know! I was paid to carry the stuff, not think about other things!”

“Okay!” Pavel yelled. “Enough! That doesn’t matter now. What about Azbara? How did you know him?”

“Oh!” Larion said. “Right. Him. Well, when they were getting everything together, the nice cultist told me that there’ll be a contact waiting for me in Daggerford, and that he’ll hitch a ride with the caravan from there. Now, why Daggerford –”

Larion began to prattle on about something called logistics, and why Azbara had decided to join at Daggerford instead of Baldur’s Gate. The thought of him and his firebolt made Serena roll her eyes; she had no want to listen to anything about the man.

Without saying a word, she stood up from her chair and walked towards the back of the wagon. Cruck’aa and Pavel seemed too engrossed in what Larion was saying to throw a word her way, as Serena opened the back flaps, and carefully hopped out of the wagon.

She almost tripped onto the road, her body screaming in protest as she caught herself. It felt as though she’d been run over by one of the wagons, so hard had firebolt smash into her chest. Serena knew she should be resting more, but damned if she’d do it in the back of Larion’s wagon and listen to him.

In front of her, on the second wagon, Torno almost seemed asleep at the reins. She blinked her eyes open as Serena stepped off the road and out of the wagon’s path.

“ _Still awake?”_ Serena signed as Torno rolled up to her.

The guard gave a sleepy grin.

“Unfortunately.” She replied. “Gods, going from guard duty to driving, dunno how the teamsters did it.” Torno looked back as she began to pass Serena. “Should be thankful though. Lucky to be alive, I suppose. You hopping on?”

“ _Yup, feel like sleeping.”_ Serena signed and rubbed her chest.

Torno stuck her thumb up and turned back towards the road; with a tug on the reins, she slowed the wagon just enough for Serena to clamber aboard, her chest aching from the effort.

As she hoisted herself up, Serena glanced at Lasfelro’s wagon behind them; he and Jemna, both on the driver’s bench, were in a heated, one sided argument about something that Serena couldn’t hear. Lasfelro gave her a small wave, one that she returned, as she pulled herself into the wagon, and glanced around.

Leaned against the side wall, legs wrapped in silk, head leaned against the canvas, Werond sat by herself, a bottle in hand. The remaining food had been stuffed into a small chest, shoved against the back of the driver’s bench, and evidently Werond had found an unopened bottle. 

Serena frowned and crawled over to where Werond sat. Her teamster cracked an eye open as she plopped herself down next to her.

“Oh, didn’t hear you come in.” Werond said quietly; her voice was steady, though Serena could smell the faint stench of booze on her breath.

“ _Are you drinking by yourself?”_ Serena asked, before tugging the silks off of Werond and wrapping them around both of them.

“Not if you join in.”

“ _Werond.”_

“Ah, sorry. Yeah, I was. Here.” She handed the bottle to Serena, who set it to the side. “I didn’t have much. Shouldn’t be doing that though.”

“ _Yeah, I’ve seen what it does to people at Mom’s bar.”_ Serena scooted closer and leaned against Werond, resting her head on her shoulder. “ _You okay though? You’re not drinking because of…the other day, are you?”_

“I…no, I don’t think so. I feel like I’ve gotten over it, already, I guess. Is that bad?”

“ _I don’t think so. We did our best, gave everyone a proper send off. Not much else we could do, I suppose. So…it’s not yesterday?”_

“No.”

“ _Then what are you drinking for?”_

“It’s nothing. Honest.”

Serena raised her head and turned towards Werond; her face was twisted in a scowl. 

“ _It doesn’t look like it.”_

Werond shifted about uncomfortably. 

“Well, it’s…complicated and…” she sucked in a breath. “There’s a lot going on in Waterdeep for me. I’ll be busy when I get back, won’t have a whole lot of time with you and everyone else. Job makes me anxious too, lot of work difficulties and I get really short when I come back from these things because there’s so much paperwork and the _last_ thing I want to do is offend you or anyone else and –” Werond cut herself off, and rubbed her face. “Sorry. It’s mostly my boss. He’s an asshole.”

“ _Why? What’d he do?”_

“Can we not talk about this?!” Werond suddenly yelled.

Serena jumped and inched away, hands to her chest. Werond’s face immediately turned a shade of red.

“Gods, sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, gods damn booze is…” She rubbed her face and sighed. “I’m sorry Serena, it’s just a sore spot for me. Didn’t mean to yell like that. Sorry.”

“ _It’s fine. Sorry I pushed your buttons.”_

“No, don’t be, you had no idea. It’s not your fault.” Werond’s shoulders slumped, as somehow, her blush deepened. “I-I’m sorry…can you come back? I’m a…feeling sorry for…myself…but if you don’t want to…cause I yelled, that’s –”

Serena scooted back before Werond could finish, and leaned into her, placing her head back where it originally was. She readjusted the silks so that they wrapped around them both, as Werond leaned her cheek against Serena’s messy hair, and wrapped an arm about her waist.

“Thanks…sorry.” She mumbled.

“ _It’s fine. It was an accident, you just scared me was all.”_ Serena grinned. “ _I was going to come back anyways.”_

“Well, if I do it again, don’t.”

“ _Werond.”_

“Ah, right, sorry.”

They lapsed into silence as the wagon continued to roll on, rocking every so often as Torno hit a bump in the road.

Serena frowned. She knew virtually nothing about Werond’s job back in Waterdeep, only that it and her boss made her miserable. This was the first time she’d raised her voice at Serena since they’d been together on the caravan. That alone worried her; she and Werond had a good relationship, so to suddenly yell at her…

Those familiar fingers of warmth began to spread through her chest, the heat of the silks suddenly becoming too warm. 

“ _Hey,”_ Serena signed, forcing her thoughts to something new. “ _what’s that place you want to take us to in Waterdeep? Is it another bar?”_

Werond laughed. “Yup, you guessed it. I figured we could all take a night off, after all this. My treat.”

“ _I think we could pay for it now.”_

“Nope, my treat. For getting me back to Waterdeep.”

“ _Alright. Will it be better than the last one we went to?”_

“In classiness? Not even close. But it’s much more fun than the Lady Luck.”

“ _How so?”_

“Well,” Werond released her waist, and slowly dragged a finger down Serena’s leg. “if I told you now, it’d ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?”

Serena’s heart leapt into her throat.

She leaned her head away. “ _No, you can’t do that to me!”_ Serena signed, as Werond smiled. “ _Just – tell me why it’ll be fun! Or just do it now, I can’t –”_

Werond reached out and placed a finger on Serena’s lips, shocking her into silence.

“I can’t do it now darling, there isn’t enough room.” She said with a wink.

Serena held her stare as Werond pulled her hand back, vividly aware of her own blush covering her face.

After a moment, Werond cocked her head.

“You know,” she said. “that doesn’t stop you from talking, does it?”

Serena narrowed her eyes.

Then burst into a fit of giggles.

Werond leaned her head back and laughed along with her. 


	29. Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally made it to Waterdeep! And it's been quite the journey, huh?   
> Never really thought I'd have written this much before, in my entire life! Feels pretty good to have something to show for all this, and to record a fantastic campaign so far!   
> As always, thanks for the read! I always appreciate it!

“Friends! May I have a moment of your time?” Larion asked, as he jumped out from behind a pile of gold.

From the circle of chairs in the center of the wagon, everyone stared; though Serena, Pavel, Werond, Jo, and Cruck’aa sat with one another, not an ounce of discussion was had. A heavy weight had descended on the wagon, stifling any conversation, each person too tired, too numb, to say anything.

Serena and Pavel straightened up from their slouch to stare at Larion, Cruck’aa’s feathers ruffled the moment the man spoke, and Werond and Jo refused to give him the time of day.

Larion gulped.

“Ah! S-sorry, hopefully I’m not…!” Sweat glistened from his forehead despite the comfortable warmth of the wagon. “I uh…j-just wanted to uh…well, you all l-looked so depressed and –”

“Spit it out man!” Cruck’aa yelled.

“Right! Well,” He stepped towards the circle. “I just w-wanted to thank you all, I suppose, for getting me safely to Waterdeep – or almost I guess, though we’re basically there – _and_ allowing me to walk free, knowing that I want nothing more to do with the cult or any of their activities, as Pavel so graciously explained to all of you yesterday –”

“Is there a point to all this?” Jo asked dryly.

“Yes!” Larion hopped back and disappeared behind a stack of gold; the sounds of rummaging emanated from where he had been, and when Larion came back, his arms where full of preciously balanced bundles of cloth. 

“I know Werond already talked about selling the wagon and everything Waterdeep earlier,” Larion said, as he approached the circle and placed the bundles on a chair. “but I took the liberty of going through what I had and picking some things out for you all that I’d think you’d like! Again, my thanks for keeping me alive, and hopefully something to cheer everyone up! We survived! We should be happy, right?”

Serena and Pavel glared at Larion; next to Serena, Werond shot him a look of disgust.

“Really Larion?” Pavel asked. “I don’t think any of us are in the mood for something like this.”

Larion grabbed the first bundle and ripped the cloth from it.

“But what if I told you I could replace your broken arms and armor, friend Pavel?” Larion asked; his voice had shifted to a tone more comfortable in the market stalls than on a caravan.

Pavel raised his brows.

“Yes! For you, I have a matching set!” Larion said, handing over a chest piece of metal strips woven to leather. “Splint mail that adjusts to your size! Though that’s standard if I’m being honest. And inside, a matching sword _and_ flail! You know, for that added reach!”

Pavel stared at Larion, before he accepted the bundle; with a blink of surprise, he examined the finely made armor and weapons, hefting the flail into the light.

“Huh. Been awhile since I used the old ball and chain…” he mumbled, inspecting the spiked ball at the end of the chain.

“Ah! I knew you’d enjoy it! And for you two!” Larion addressed Jo and Cruck’aa before anyone else could speak; he turned towards his pile of bundles and ripped the cloth from another and hoisted up two lengths of yew. “Matching bows! Made from the finest wood! I’ll be honest, I didn’t know what to get for you,” He said towards Cruck’aa. “but with all that flying you do, I thought a bow wouldn’t hurt!”

“I don’t want anything –” Cruck’aa began to say, before Larion cut him off as he shoved the bow into his talons and handed the other off to Jo.

“Nonsense! You don’t know just how much you’ll enjoy this one! Enchanted to be easier to string, easier to fire, and _much_ more accurate than normal.” He winked at Jo, as he handed over the cords. “Should pack more of a punch than your typical bow, too!”

Jo looked quizzically at the bow and cord, then shrugged; Cruck’aa stared incredulously at her as Jo began to string the bow. Before he could say anything, Larion flipped around to his last bundle, and ripped the cloth off.

“And for _you_ lovely ladies!” He said, staff and necklace in hand. “I put _extra_ thought into these. For my pyromaniac friend,” Serena frowned. “I just so happened to have a magical little staff here that you’d might like!”

Larion handed over the staff, one made of steel and bronze with a tiny decorative brazier at its head. Serena accepted it with wide eyes.

“ _That,_ my friend, is a wonderful staff known as a Staff of Fire! Helps with your wonderful fire magic _and_ has its own repertoire of fiery spells! No, I don’t know how that works, don’t ask me.” He winked. “Don’t burn yourself. And you, my lovely lady!” He turned towards Werond and handed over a necklace stringed with sparkling diamonds. “Only the finest jewelry, sparkling just as much as your eyes do on a summer’s day!”

Werond accepted the necklace with one hand, staring at him as though he’d grown a second head. Larion bowed to her.

“I do hope you’ll wear it and always think of me. And that!” He said, as Larion turned towards the rest of the group. “Is all I have for you all! I do hope you enjoy it, and remember your _good_ friend Larion, who always made sure to look out for you! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need some sleep!”

Larion bowed once more, turned on his heel, and hopped over to the back of the wagon; with a flick of his wrist, he flung the flaps open, and hopped out into the night.

Everyone stared at where he had been, the only sound coming from Jo as she plucked the now strung bow.

Pavel turned towards the rest of them. “Well, that’s nice and all. Not sure how good it was at making me feel better, what with everything…but I don’t know what he’s covering his bases for. I don’t think anyone’s going to stop him from running off.”

“Yes, that was rather sad, if anything.” Cruck’aa said, as he dropped the bow at his talons.

“Wasn’t all too bad.” Werond said, holding the necklace into the light. “This should fetch something nice at the market. Serena won’t even need to pay me at that point.”

“ _No, I’ll still pay you your wages, that’s only fair.”_ Serena replied.

“But now you can pay me in other ways, huh?”

“Uh, anyways,” Jo interrupted as Serena blushed. “that reminds me a bit, what do we plan on doing with all this?”

“What? What Larion gave us?” Pavel asked, tapping on the splint mail.

“No, I mean the mountains of gold that sit around us Pavel. Kind of hard to miss.”

“ _Honestly, I kind of like it all.”_ Serena signed. “ _Reminds me of Ned’s house.”_

“Yes, because he just had mountains of gold, didn’t he?” Cruck’aa rolled his eyes.

“ _Well, more than this, but –”_

“Actually,” Werond interjected. “been thinking on that. I don’t know how long you all plan on staying in Waterdeep for, but you could open a joint bank account, make it so all of you have access to it. ‘course, it’ll need to be in someone’s name, but you’ll still be able to pull from it.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad actually,” Pavel said, as everyone around him, save Cruck’aa, nodded. “keep it safe until we need it. Whose name will it be in then?”

Serena’s hand shot up.

“That was a bit too fast there, Serena.” He shrugged. “Fine by me though. If you want to pretend to be a dragon, be my guest.” 

…

Excitement bubbled in Serena’s chest, filling her with a restless energy. She fidgeted on the driver’s bench, picking at the helm of her skirt, as she stared up at the slowly approaching stone walls of Waterdeep.

By noon of the following day, their tiny caravan had rounded the last corner of the Trade Way, giving an unobstructed view of the final leg of their journey.

The Trade Way continued through a rolling sea of green, the coast’s signature fields extending out before them. Further away, the hills slowly transitioned to rough outcroppings, large rocks and stony ground becoming prevalent, until they dropped away entirely, plummeting to what Serena assumed where cliffsides. The cliffs extended as far as the hills, until they softened, gradually becoming flatter, until they smacked into the walls of Waterdeep, sitting impressively at the edge of the coast.

The walls of the city looked no different than those of Daggerford, and Serena swore the same grey stone bricks had been used by both. Instead, her eyes had gone wide at the sheer length of the walls when they came into view; they seemed to extend for miles, dwarfing the size of Daggerford even from a distance. They extended across the way until the walls curved out of sight, though the various pointed wooden tops of guard towers could still be seen.

And poking barely above the walls of Waterdeep stood the very top of a castle, one that looked right at home in the tales that Serena’s Mother had told her, so long ago. Just the sight of it set Serena on the edge of her seat. 

“ _Okay, okay!”_ She signed to Werond. “ _Is the big castle looking thing in the middle the castle of Waterdeep? Does a king live there or something?”_

Werond laughed. “No darling, no king. But that is Castle Waterdeep. The Masked Lords and Open Lords all work together there, doing whatever it is bureaucrats do. The only person I could think of being close to a king, or queen really, is Lady Silverhand. She’s the head of the government right now, though she doesn’t do anything without talking to the other Open Lords and Masked Lords first.”

Serena nodded, her eyes narrowed; Werond glanced over at her and smiled.

“Right, you don’t know about any of that, sorry. Um…Masked Lords, there’s a lot of them, I think around twenty-one right now. They oversee a big number of local affairs, tending to the small problems of the city, but they always hold council and discuss the main issues plaguing everyone, and what needs to be done about them.” She sniffed. “Rather boring really. But the Open Lords are different. There’s four of them, and they handle the big problems that the Masked Lords bring to them. They have a lot of power, but they’re kept in check by the Masked Lords, if needed. Lady Silverhand is the current” Werond waved her hands. “ _main_ leader of Waterdeep. She lives in the castle and is probably what you’re thinking of when you asked if a king or queen lived there. I’ve seen her before, she was elected for a reason. Woman is damned smart, crafty too.”

_“You’ve seen her before?!”_ Serena asked, twisting to fully face Werond. “ _What’s she like? Is she nice? Does she rule with an iron-fist?”_

_“_ Okay.” Werond said; she placed a hand on Serena’s face, and gently pushed her back. “No more talking until we’re in the city.”

Serena smiled and shoved her hand away.

She leaned back in the bench, shoved her excitement down as best she could, and watched the walls of the city slowly approach.

The closer their caravan rolled to the front of Waterdeep, the wider Serena’s eyes became; from far out, the walls appeared the same height as the walls of Daggerford, but the closer they got, Serena realized that they greatly dwarfed Daggerford’s. By the time the wagons began to approach the massive wooden gate, Serena had to lean her head back to fully gaze up at the top of the walls.

“ _H-how big are they?!”_ She signed, gazing up in awe.

“Uhm, the walls? Five stories, I think?” Werond replied. “Been awhile since I brushed up on my Waterdeep facts.”

“ _Why?!”_

Werond shrugged. “They really don’t want outside things to come in, I guess.”

“When the city was first built, the main thing they had to deal with were giant attacks.”

Serena leaned forward and looked around Werond as the wagon slowly came to a halt in front the main gate. Pavel had hopped out the back and walked around the front on Werond’s side, stack of sweaty papers in hand. His new set of armor glittered in the sun, sword and flail strapped to his belt.

“Was quite the pain in the ass apparently.” Pavel continued, sorting through the papers. “So, the people of the time put their heads together, and figured that if they could build a wall _taller_ than the giants, then they wouldn’t have any problems. So, they did, and they made the walls.”

“ _Oh.”_ Serena signed. “ _Wait…but how did they make the walls that tall?”_

“Beats me. I’m just telling you what my sergeant told me a while ago.”

A small door, carved into the massive gate, flung open; a man stepped onto the road, and closed the door halfway behind himself. Every inch of him was covered in plate mail, with a red tunic underneath. He stood tall, half-helm adding to his height, and appeared more confident than all the guards in Daggerford combined.

He leaned his spear against the door and strode up to Pavel, eyeing him under his helm. 

“Afternoon.” the guard said gruffly. “Caravan coming in? You got papers?”

“Indeed, I do sir.” Pavel replied, and handed over the stack. “Apologies, they’ve been in my pocket the entire ride.”

“Ah, don’t matter. Seen worse, held worse. At least you have the papers.” The guard fell silent as he shuffled through them.

He blinked, looked up, and stared at the wagon, craning his neck to glance at the two behind it.

“These correct? Your caravan is supposed to have thirteen wagons, where’re the other ten?”

“Gone.” Pavel replied. “We were attacked just a couple of days ago. We…” Pavel looked up and sighed deeply. “We lost the majority of the caravan. Picked up the best we could.”

Werond lowered her head as Serena looked away, her chest tightening. She thought that she had shoved away those feelings, but at Pavel’s words, they came flooding back. 

“Lathander’s Balls.” The guard cursed. “Ah, deepest apologies. I…gods, that hasn’t happened in a long time. I’m sorry, really I am.” He sighed and handed the papers back to Pavel. “I’ll open the gate for you all. Roll up towards the checkpoint, you’ll see it. I’ll make sure the inspection is quick.” 

The guard turned on his heel and fled back behind the gate, door slamming loudly. After a moment, the sound of a wooden scratching on wood emanated from behind it, and gate slowly rolled inward.

The pang in Serena’s chest melted away as the city of Waterdeep slammed into her.

The dirt path of the Trade Way abruptly transitioned to a cobblestone road, large enough to accommodate two wagons traveling both directions. It went straight until it split into a V, and on all sides, rows upon rows of buildings towered up, their wooden roofs pointed to the sky. Each building looked almost the same, like giant upright stone bricks that a giant had carved windows and doorways into; they were painted a dull mixture of greys and beiges, many the same color as the road, and they almost reminded Serena of the rocky outcroppings outside the city. The paint and natural colors looked weathered, as though they were painted a lifetime ago and no one had the time to fix them. 

Barely any alleyways ran through the buildings, giving them the appearance of a solid wall that someone had cut doors and windows into. Unable to tell one building from another, and with so many packed on all sides, the sight almost overwhelmed Serena. But not as much as the sheer number of people packed within the city. 

Windows here and there were flung open, some with children pointing to the ground below, others with tired looking women hanging up dripping clothes, others still occupied with the lean of day drinkers and merrymakers, who shouted from across the road at one another, their voices lost in the cacophony of the city below. 

Denizens of all kinds, from humans to dwarves to elves and half-orcs, mingled through the road. They formed crowds that blocked the way for the wagons and carriages that tried to drive through, teamsters snapping at horses and bystanders alike. Men and women clad in sweat-stained tunics unloaded crates from wagons, hoisting them up and carrying them into various buildings. A group of dwarves dressed in fine silks walked against the side of the buildings, avoiding the crowds, casting looks to any who glanced their way. A Tiefling stood at the tip of the V, balanced on a wooden crate, shouting the news for the day, waving stacks of newspaper above his head. Children – mainly humans and halflings – ducked and weaved through the crowds, shouts thrown their way, as they laughed in the sunlight. And intermingled between them all, men and women of all races, clad in tightly cinched robes of yellow and green and leather armor, patrolled the streets, shields and truncheons at the ready.

She’d never heard so loud a racket as the city of Waterdeep.

Mixed among the din and sights, scents of freshly baked goods, of tanned leather, of upturned chamber pots, of wet clothes and animals, assaulted Serena like a maelstrom. A large shadow darkened the sky above them, and Serena jumped as two griffon riders, clad in the same arms and armor of the Guard, flew overhead, and into the city.

Serena leaned back in the bench, eyes still wide, hands clutching her seat. She jumped again as Werond laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Not like Daggerford huh?” Werond raised her voice over the crowds. “Bit more packed, right?”

“ _There’s so many…everything!”_ Serena signed, head flipping around as though she could see it all. “ _I, I just, never seen –”_

The wagon rocked as Pavel stood on the foot rail next to Werond.

“You never been here before Serena?” He asked; Pavel laughed as she shook her head. “Oh, you and Werond are in for a treat then!”

“What? I live here Pavel!” Werond said with a confused grin.

“No, I know. I mean with having to explain everything to her! Cause I ain’t doing it!” Pavel grinned as Werond rolled her eyes, before pointing. “Follow the guard, by the way.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, _Captain.”_ Werond said, as she snapped the reins. “Actually, you lost that job now that we’re here, huh?”

“Yes, but I’ll always be the captain of all your hearts!”

Before Pavel could grin, Werond placed a hand against his chest, and shoved him off the rail; he caught himself just before colliding with a group of half-orcs, all of whom puffed up at the sight of a flustered Pavel.

“ _Werond!”_ Serena struggled to sign through her giggles. “ _Don’t do that! He could get hurt!”_

“He’s got a thick skull, he’ll be fine. Now – hey!” Werond barked towards a group of gnomes who wandered off the sidewalk and into the road. “You got eyes! Use them! Git!”

Serena blinked as the group scattered out of the way; for once, she was thankful that she didn’t have to drive.

The guard from the gate motioned for their tiny caravan to follow, the people in the road giving him a wide berth; he waved his spear, now adorned with a small yellow flag, as Werond slowly rolled after him, cursing each person that jumped in their way. Though they only rolled some feet, Serena counted three times that she feared Werond might run someone over.

Their three wagons parked in a line nearest to the Tiefling at the fork, next to a set of buildings that seemed cleaner than the rest. Their beige walls appeared as though they’d been washed that morning, and the sun gleamed brightly from freshly polished windows. A door slammed open from the middle building, and two guards in similar garb as the first, came marching out. Each had a large bag strapped to their side, and as they walked towards the Sleeper and Lasfelro’s wagon, one gave a similar bag to the first guard. He strapped it to his side, then jogged back over to Pavel.

“Alright,” he said. “just need to inspect the contents of the wagons first, take the tax from them as per the usual standard.” He waved a hand. “You all know this. Tax collected from each wagon, and if they’re no goods, then a small fee is levied. We’ll collect it here and you all will be on your way…save we find something illegal, of course.”

“Right, right.” Pavel nodded, as he fought to steady his breathing. “I’ll be honest though, not sure how you’ll take the taxes out of everything in the back.”

“I assure you sir, I’ve been doing this for over fifteen years now, I’ll figure it out.” 

The guard turned and marched towards the back of the wagon, Pavel on his heels. After a moment, the wagon dipped as they climbed aboard.

“So,” Werond said as she leaned back in the bench. “what do you think? Pretty hectic place during the day, but it’s got its charm.”

“ _There’s so many buildings!”_ Serena signed, as she tried to memorize what each one looked like.

Werond laughed.

“Yes, there’s quite a few. Lot more than Daggerford.”

“ _Are we in one of the Wards? That’s what you called them at Daggerford, right?”_

“Yes, spot on. We’re in the Southern Ward. Or Caravan City. Either one works. Poorest ward, but it’s where the caravans from the places south of Waterdeep enter through. They get quite a few so there’s always newcomers. Probably the shadiest place here as well, what with all the crime. It’s why there’s so many guards around.” She grinned. “Just wait until you see the nicer parts of the city. Like where I live. The difference is staggering.”

“ _Really?!”_ Serena scooted closer to Werond. “ _How?! What’s the difference?”_

“Why would I tell you when we’ll see it in an hour?”

“ _Because you’re nice and don’t want to tease me?”_

“How long have you known me?”

“ _Too long already.”_ Serena said, scooting back to her seat as Werond laughed. She narrowed her eyes. “ _Hey, completely different thought, but why are we being searched here? Why not outside the gate? Isn’t that safer?”_

The mirth vanished from Werond, her pleasant mood gone with the wind that blew through the streets. 

“You would think!” She said, as she threw her hands up. “They used to but now they don’t! Gods, it’s ridiculous! You don’t know, of course, but there was an incident that occurred, oh I don’t know, three, four years ago? A caravan came in and was stopped, and the guards started searching it. The protocol was to close the gate behind them, but apparently the guards on duty that day didn’t do that. So, when a small group of god damn _orcs_ jumped out of the wagons and killed them, they were able to push their way inside and start fucking with everything! Course, they didn’t do much, got put down pretty fast. No one knows what the hell they were thinking, maybe that there was something quick to grab at the gates? I don’t know. What I _do_ know is that, a week after that, they changed the laws and dictated that caravans had to come _into_ the city to be searched! Just because one of the guard’s _mothers_ petitioned for a change in the laws, and somehow convinced all the Masked Lords! Had to change up the entire infrastructure.” Werond pointed angerly at the guard barracks. “That’s new! That wasn’t here three years ago! That used to be a damn shoe shop! A good one too! And then the city had to divert funds to make it up to code for guards to live in! Waste of damned resources!” Werond punctuated the word with guttural yell, and she slammed her back into the bench, arms crossed.

Halfway through her rant, Serena leaned away from Werond and into the armrest; now, she stared with wide eyes. “ _Oh, uhm…sorry, I didn’t mean to –”_

“No! No, it’s fine! You don’t need to apologize.” Werond waved her hands without looking at Serena. “The fucking Masked Lords need to apologize for this waste of effort! I have been trying to get that decision ch–” Werond flinched and shook her head. “I’ve been complaining about that decision to everyone since it was enacted. Everyone feels the same, but none of the right people listen!” Werond sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Sorry. I’ve had at least three years to get pissed off at this.”

“ _I guess I would be mad too, if I lived in the city.”_

“You would. You absolutely would.”

The wagon rocked backwards; after a moment, the guard and Pavel came around the side. The bag strapped to the guard’s side was slightly larger, as though he was carrying something. Pavel held a look of disappointment, as he glanced at the guard.

“Right,” the guard said. “gave a look over, counted it all out based on volume, and took the cut for the city. Lovely bird you all have back through, by the way. Papers are with him.” He jerked a thumb at Pavel. “You all are free to go and enjoy your stay in Waterdeep.” As he spoke, his companions came out from behind the other two wagons; they conversed briefly with Torno and Lasfelro, before all three of them headed back into the guard barracks together.

“I thought for sure he’d freak out.” Pavel said, stuffing the papers into his pocket. “He just got mad a Cruck’aa for being his normal self. And then he took a small cut and left! Nothing!”

“Guards have seen all kinds of things, Pavel.” Werond replied. “Takes a lot to surprise them.”

“I guess.”

The wagon rocked again. The three of them turned as Larion, slightly sweaty, stepped out and onto the sidewalk. He clutched a small messenger bag to his chest and looked around, eyes frantic.

“Are we good?” Larion asked, stepping towards Pavel. “The guard release us? We passed inspection?”

“Uhm, yes, weren’t you there when he was –”

“Fantastic!” Larion said. “Have a great life!” 

He bowed once to Pavel, once to Serena, and once to Werond, before he turned on his heel, and ran into the street. Before Serena could blink, he dodged a carriage, threaded his way through a crowd of wide-eyed sightseers, crossed to the other side, and disappeared into an alley way.

Serena couldn’t help but stare. Next to her, Werond shook her head.

“I really hope you didn’t need him for anything, Pavel. He’s long gone now.”

“No, he’s fine.” Pavel said with a chuckle. “Didn’t think he’d run off that fast though. Good riddance.”

As he spoke, the flick of reins could be heard from behind them; after a moment, Lasfelro’s wagon slowly rolled into the street. Bystanders quickly moved out of the way as he picked up speed and moved past their wagon. Just as Serena thought he was leaving completely, the wagon stopped, confusing even more bystanders who’d moved preemptively.

Jemna poked her head out the back and grinned at the three of them.

“Welp! Time for us to get outta here!” She yelled, shrill voice causing people to stare. “Lassie and I got things to do! Good traveling with ya! See ya!”

Without waiting for a reply, Jemna pulled her head back into the wagon. From the front, Lasfelro twisted around and waved. Serena, Werond, and Pavel waved back.

With another flick, he urged his horses forward, and began down the road, avoiding people and animals alike.

A small weight seemed to settle in Serena’s chest; she hadn’t been close to any of them, but seeing the caravan, once so full, finally drift apart, saddened her. As though part of her life was coming to an end.

Before she could think further, Torno pushed through a line of elves on the sidewalk and stood next to Pavel.

“Hey, so, what’s the deal? Everyone just leaving?” She asked, looking from Pavel to Werond.

“For the most part. I think we’re planning on staying together,” Pavel gestured towards the wagon. “until we can figure things out. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”

“Honestly? I’ll pass. Think I’ve seen enough excitement for a couple of months. Find a cushy job here or something. No offense.” Torno added, putting her hands up.

“None taken.” Werond said. “Pavel, where’s the caravan office? We should get our pay together before Torno heads off.”

“Oh, right, almost forgot.” He fished the papers back out and fingered through them. “Woodbridge’s office is…third right, coming up from The Way of the Dragon road…which…” He looked around. “is somewhere I’m sure.”

“Well, we’re on that road now. Oh!” Werond slapped her knee. “I know the place, it’s in the square over here. We’re not far. Torno,” she turned towards the other guard of the caravan. “follow behind me and we’ll get your pay. We’re going to sell off all the wagons and horses too, and I think we’d all be happy to give you whatever the wagons go for. Right?”

Serena and Pavel nodded; it was the least they could do for her.

Torno blinked, taken back.

“Oh, uhm, no I couldn’t do that, my normal pay is fine.”

“Nope,” Pavel said. “you refused a cut of everything we got from Larion, least we could do is give this to you. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

“No, really sir, I can’t, that’s –”

“Torno, without your help, I’d be dinner for a giant. You’re getting paid more whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, alright!” Torno said with a grin. “If you insist! I’ll just follow behind you all then, lead the way!”

With a spring in her step, Torno turned and ran back to the wagon, just in time to shoo off two overly curious dwarven children from climbing into the bench.

Pavel watched her, before he turned back to Werond.

“I’ll leave getting there up to you then?” He gave a thumbs up when Werond nodded. “Okay, I’ll hop in the back then.”

“ _So how does…uh, all we’re about to do work?”_ Serena asked, as the wagon dipped once more. “ _I know we talked about the bank and everything, but I’ve never used any of that before.”_

“Pretty simple actually.” Werond flicked the reins and urged the horses forward, angling them down the left side of the V; she stopped to let another wagon pass, bystanders scattering around it. “The gold in the back will be stuffed into an account, and we’ll set it up so there’s enough keys for everyone to grab as much as they need, whenever they need it. The other stuff though, the wagons and horses, and whatever else you want to sell in the back, needs to be done through the caravan office.” Werond slowed the wagon down, as a passing man bent down in the middle of the road to pick up a copper piece. “I didn’t know you all had been contracted through Woodbridge, they’re pretty good. We can give everything to them after they appraise it, and they’ll throw a cut of money our way. We don’t get as much because we’re going through them, and not independent buys, but at this point, who cares? I just want to be done with all this.”

“ _Ah, okay. So, we can all get the money?”_

“Everyone but me, yeah.” Werond replied, angling the wagon around a pair of half-orcs standing in the road. “Gods damnit, roads are cramped today.”

Serena raised her hands to reply, then stopped; Werond needed to concentrate on the road, rather than talk with her. Instead, she leaned back into the bench, and continued scanning the city.

The road they were on went straight for a way, until it curved out of sight behind the wall of buildings. As they inched closer to the curve, Werond stopping and starting every odd foot, the amount of people in the road began to thicken, until she wondered if it was even possible to drive through them.

A shrill whistle pierced the air; two city guards came from around the curve and gestured towards everyone, waving their truncheons, directing them to the sidewalks. Werond waved at one as they shoved most of the crowds away from the road, allowing them to finally pass, much to the loud anger of everyone else. 

Just as the wagon rounded the corner, Serena’s eyes went wide again.

The road stretched out into the distance, looking much like the Trade Way in length, until it collided with another wall of buildings, splitting into a T, barely visible from where they were. Just as before, two more solid walls of buildings stretched out on either side of the road, forming what appeared to be a-mile-long wall on each side of the sidewalk. This time though, more alleyways were cut into them, smaller squares hidden away between the walls, alleviating that cramped feeling. 

More wagons from before crowded the street, traffic going in both directions, enough that there were almost no crowds clogging their way. Instead, many of the city guard, their tunics in a blinding yellow, corralled the bystanders onto the sidewalks, forming massive crowds that could barely move past one another. Despite their best efforts, many still tried to wander into the road or cross at inopportune times, much to the guards and teamster’s chagrin. 

Serena almost covered her ears as the wagon slowly began to roll down the road; despite not being much further away from the gate, this part of the city was much louder, the harsh maelstrom of shrieks and shouting piercing her ears to an unbearable degree. She sank down in her seat and scooted closer to Werond.

“ _Is it always like this?”_ She asked with a grimace.

Werond leaned in towards Serena’s ear. “Yup!” She said, voice raised over the crowd. “Main street over here, all the business are on this strip. I only ever come here after a job.” She straightened up and pointed to a spot on the right of the road, further up. “See that archway? That’s where we’re going. Woodbridge’s offices and banks are over there. Just need to – hey!” Serena jumped as Werond made herself heard, yelling at a wagon about to cut her off. “The fuck are you doing?! Really?!” She gestured rudely at the Tiefling driver, who’d stopped in the middle of the road and gestured right back. “Fucking idiot!”

Serena grinned; something about seeing Werond, normally a calm driver, so fired up over city traffic was amusing to her.

It didn’t take long for Werond to weave the wagon through the packed street, dodging more wagons and oblivious bystanders, and halt in an open space beside the sidewalk, something that Werond called an act of the gods. Jutting out from the throngs of people that lined the sidewalk, a smaller path extended towards an archway built between two large buildings. Huge letters were carved into the top of it, the words WOODBRIDGE SQUARE visible even if Serena had been standing on the other side of the road. A plaza opened through the alleyway, cut into the middle of densely packed buildings, with market stalls and shops of all kinds filling the edges. Two bored looking guards flanked either side of the archway, eyeing the various citizens that filtered through.

“We’re here!” Werond yelled, leaning her head through the front flaps.

She stood up and hopped off the wagon, landing in front of the crowds; Serena followed close behind, as Torno’s wagon slowed to a halt behind theirs, Torno hopping down soon after.

Their wagon dipped as Pavel hopped out the back, followed closely behind by Cruck’aa and Jo, all of whom already in an argument.

“…saying is that it’s ridiculous!” Cruck’aa said, as he followed Pavel and Jo to the edge of the sidewalk. “That cut he took was far too much! Pavel, do you even –”

“No, I don’t, but I trust he took the right amount.” Pavel said, eyes half closed.

“How?! How can you –”

“Cruck’aa,” Jo flipped around and stared at the Aarakocra, who was already being stared at by the crowds around them. “why are you complaining? What were you going to do, decline the tax? Get arrested?”

“All I’m saying –”

“Hey!” Werond yelled; all three started and looked at her. “Enough! Seriously, too tired for this. Pavel, do you know what to do to get paid?” He nodded. “Good, then follow Serena and I through the front,” she jerked a thumb towards the archway. “and turn right when we turn left. The bank and caravan office are right across from each other.”

“And what will you two be doing?” Cruck’aa demanded, as he shoved past Jo and Pavel to stand directly in front of Werond. For the first time, Serena realized they were the same height, though they were both taller than her.

“We’ll be going to the bank and setting up a group account for…the stuff.” Werond said flatly, glancing towards the crowds behind her. “Serena isn’t going to know how to make one, so I need to help her.”

“And why is it just you two going?” Cruck’aa narrowed his eyes. “You don’t plan on –”

“Because you and Jo need to watch the wagons with Torno until we get back?” Werond eyed Cruck’aa as though he’d grown a second head. “If we all go, someone’s going to steal the wagons, Cruck’aa, even in broad daylight. We’re not in the best part of town.”

He stared at her, beady eyes still narrowed, beak moving in a silent grumble. After a moment, he turned around and walked back to stand beside Jo, who shot him a bemused look.

“Well, that sounds like a plan to me.” Jo said; with a grunt, she stretched her arms over her head. “Gods, I’m getting hungry. We need to eat after all this. Could really use something better than the crap we had on the caravan. Oh!” she said. “Mashed potatoes! Gods, haven’t had that one in forever! Werond, there a place we could get those around here?”

Before Werond could respond, Pavel let loose a short laugh.

“Jo,” he said, smirk on his face. “I fell for that the first time; I’m not falling for it again. And I’m not going to let you trick everyone else with that.”

Jo froze, arms still above her head. Beside her, Torno raised her brows.

“Fall for what?”

“That trick they get greenies with. Old buddy of mine, Mercutio, got me with it. Not going to work this time though!”

Jo dropped her hands, her eyes now wide.

“Are you…Pavel, are you saying mashed potatoes aren’t real?”

“Alright,” Werond said; she grabbed Serena’s arm and began to pull her into the crowd. “alright, none of that, let’s get this done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple of things:  
> I had SUCH a hard time with this one; the descriptions of Waterdeep threw me for a loop, for whatever reason, and I never could seem to get them right. I'm content with what I have so far, but if I had the time, I'd go back and do some research on how better to describe a city. Funny enough, I didn't have this problem with Daggerford.   
> Also, I know the potato comment is out of left field. Pavel's player requested that I throw one of our gags in there, and I did, as much as I dislike it in writing. I don't think that will keep coming up in the future, but if it does, I apologize in advance.


	30. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something short, something different!
> 
> Edit: Messed up the chapters a bit, fixed now!

A Drow sat in an office.

It was not his office; he had no need for offices. Truth be told, he despised all who were forced to use an office. Nothing more than concrete and glass cages to those who needed a master. And they all had masters, each one of them. It may not have always been someone like him, but there was always something else that held sway over those people. Vices, family, the sense of belonging, it didn’t matter. If one worked in an office, one could be controlled.

The Drow leaned back and slammed his feet onto the desk.

It wasn’t the keenest observation he’d made in his life, but that was fine. With where he was, he didn’t need keen discoveries, there were others that made those for him.

Still, regardless of how ridiculous it was, he believed it to be true. Especially with his newest little office worker.

He smiled and leaned his head back into the plush leather chair.

Newest wasn’t the right word. The reactions, the rush of feelings, it all still had that brand new sense to it, but that wasn’t correct. He’d held that power over his little paper pusher for three years now, and he’d achieved much with that time. All at the expense of that poor soul that owned the office, of course. But what did that matter? Results were results, and if his little bureaucrat went bald over it, or worse, keeled over into an early grave, he’d find another.

That would require a great deal of work though. Simple enough to cage another bird, but quite the tedious task. He had something good going on, and he didn’t want to cut ties just yet.

He would, of course. Eventually. When they outlived their usefulness. Perhaps he’d pass the judgement himself when the time came. He wasn’t sure just yet. 

A knock sounded on the tall wooden doors, before they opened slightly. 

A guard, decked in full plate, poked his head through the crack, nodding once at the Drow.

“Apologizes sir,” the guard said. “but the report came in.”

The Drow raised his brows; he dropped his boots from the desk and sat up straight.

“Oh?” He said, lips slowly curving into a smile. “Do tell. Is it the report we’ve been waiting with bated breath for?”

“Indeed, it is sir. Our man at the Southern Gate checkpoint sent it in. Evidently, their caravan had been ransacked but everyone important made it out alive.”

“Hmm.” The Drow rubbed his chin, smile spread across his face. “Ransacked, you say? Intriguing, intriguing. Well, I’ve nothing of import later today…perhaps I’ll stop by.”

The guard nodded. “Would you like the full report sir?”

The Drow stood up from the chair, and swept a large, purple hat on top his bald head.

“No, no,” he said. “I’ll see it all myself anyhow.” 


	31. A Night Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I got super stuck on this. Combination of being too tired to work on it and those god damn building descriptions getting me hung up.  
> Anyways, there's actually more but I had too much for one chapter. So the next part is already written, I just need to proofread it and all fix it. So hopefully the next one shouldn't take too long! And trust me, the next one will be spicy!
> 
> Thanks for all the views! Never through I'd ever get 500 views on anything I write, but here I am! Thanks again!

Not a single part of the caravan remained by the time the sun had set over the city of Waterdeep, the sidewalks clearing out, roads emptying of wagons and carriages. Everything had sold decently well, from the horses and wagons, to the more expensive items hidden among the piles of gold; with the ease of an expert, Werond had somehow haggled away everything in the wagon to their employer, convincing the poor worker assigned to them that _everything_ had a price. The only items that hadn’t sold where their new arms and armor, strapped to them or held in tired hands, and the clothes on their backs.

Perhaps more stunning than the ease of the sale was how fast their account was set up. Serena hadn’t a clue how any of it worked, yet Werond ran through it as though she’d opened ten each day. When the correct paperwork had been signed and keys divvied out, each one of them, save Werond, had access to the massive pile of gold, with the agreement that none of them take any unless they clear it with everyone else first.

Werond had told them, quietly, that they were richer than almost half the city now. Serena would have been more excited, had she not been as tired as she was.

Torno had taken off by that point, her payment and coin from the sale of the wagons tucked safely away in a coin purse stuffed into a backpack. She promised to find them and catch up later, though Serena doubted that would happen. 

Everyone dragged their feet as they exited the now closed square; not an ounce of energy remained between the four of them. Werond, however, still beamed with energy; she clucked her tongue at the weary group and waved Serena’s staff at them.

“You four tired already?” She asked. “Come on, the night’s just begun, there’s a place I want to take all you!”

“Really?” Jo asked, her eyes drooping. “Do we need to go tonight?”

“You want to eat, right?”

Jo straightened up, her weariness gone in a flash. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

_“Are we going straight there?”_ Serena could barely sign, so heavy were her hands.

“Nope, we can drop our stuff off at my place.” Werond grinned at the group. “Which, of course, you’re all welcome to stay at. Just a short walk away.”

“I uh…think I need to rest my feet a bit before we go do anything.” Pavel said, readjusting the bag on his back, a purchase from earlier. “Just for a moment.”

“Of course, of course.” Werond said. “We’ll be there soon, it’s not too far from here.”

With a spring in her step, Werond lead the way down the empty sidewalk.

The ward looked different at night, the streets now mostly deserted; they and a scant few other bystanders were still on the sidewalk, with not a single wagon rolling anywhere on the road. It seemed odd to Serena that such a busy place could empty so quickly.

She sped up and fell in line with Werond. Perhaps empty wasn’t the right word; the streetlights that dotted the road every odd foot were brightly lit, dispelling all but the darkest shadows between the alleyways. Almost every building was lit up, with magical or torch light bleeding through windows and doors. As Serena passed each building, sounds of laughter and merriment emanated from one, while others carried forth the hustle and bustle of businesses still at work. Occasionally, drunk patrons would step out for a breath of air, and weary looking mothers would lean out an open window, taking a well-deserved break. But none seemed to venture back into the street, as though some force prevented them.

The streets were empty, but the city was awake, toiling away at whatever happened in Waterdeep at night.

Serena glanced at Werond as she caught up; the moon hung brightly in the sky, shining like a beacon. 

“ _Everything seems so empty, but no one’s asleep!”_ Serena signed to Werond.

Her old teamster smiled, face illuminating with each passing streetlamp.

“You don’t really want to wander around at night in this part of the city.” She said. “Southern Ward is fine during the day, but some…less than reputable businesses operate at night. Don’t want to be out too much. Noticed there aren’t any more City Watch out?”

Serena looked around, at dark alleys and empty corners, and realized with a start that Werond was right; she hadn’t noticed at all.

“Yeah, I was surprised when I noticed that too. It’s too risky for the Watch to be out at night, too many attacks used to happen. They’re still here mind you. You just need to call them if you need their help, they won’t be around.”

“ _But the streets lit up. Why is it dangerous when everything is lit up?”_

“They don’t care,” Werond waved her free hand. “they really don’t. A lot of undesirables operate out of this ward, and if they need something done, they’ll have the backup. Guard chases someone around a corner, he’s likely to get stabbed by ten other knives he didn’t see.”

“ _Is it even safe for us to be out then?”_ Serena asked, shuffling closer to Werond.

“There’s, what, five of us? Big group like us won’t get bothered. In fact, you’re supposed to walk with company around here at night. Unless you’ve personally pissed someone off, its mostly crimes of opportunity. We’re not worth it.” She jerked her head across the street, towards another group of four nervous looking dwarves. “They got the right idea, they’ll be okay.”

“ _Safety in numbers.”_

“Yup. No one will mess with you if you aren’t alone.” Werond looped her arm through Serena’s and pulled them together. “I’m especially lucky that I have you with me, with all that fire you throw, huh?”

Nervousness flooded into Serena’s chest. She glanced up at Werond, who glanced back with a smile. 

“ _Y-yeah,”_ She signed, fingers heavy. “ _good thing you can cling to me.”_

“Oh no, no, no.” Werond said, smile turning devilish; she leaned in and lowered her voice. “ _You_ cling to _me,_ that’s how this works darling.”

A wave of heat rolled over Serena, tips of her ears now burning. Acutely aware of her own blush, she looked away, as though the buildings next to her were suddenly interesting.

They remained quiet as they walked the rest of the way, the three behind occasionally quipping about the empty streets. Every topic of conversation died at her fingers, as the very thought caused the blush to return.

As they approached the end of the street, it branched off into an intersection; before Serena could read the signs, Werond turned to the left and pulled her around the corner of the sidewalk, the new street as empty as the one behind them.

“Bit more, and we’re in my home ward.” Werond said. She pointed ahead, gesturing to what seemed like brighter lights through an alley. “Castle Ward might remind you of Daggerford a little bit, you’ll like it.”

“ _More lively?”_

“A bit.”

“Werond!” Pavel said, as the three of them rounded the corner. “We almost there?”

She craned her head around. “Yup, just a little bit further.” 

The street and sidewalk narrowed, until they curved to the right around the backs of wide buildings. Werond stepped off the sidewalk, and towards the alley carved out the middle of them. Unlike the alleyways they’d passed, two large streetlamps stood outside the threshold of passage, melting away the shadows and Serena’s anxiety, as they passed through.

When they stepped out the other side and onto a different street, Serena’s eyes went wide.

They were on the curve of a sidewalk, nicer than the ones in the Southern Ward. In front of them, the street continued forwards, while also curving at their feet and continuing to the right. In between the roads stood rows upon rows of buildings, towering over the ones in the Southern Ward. While they appeared similarly built, with the same beige colors and dark, pointed roofs, each one seemed nicer, almost newer, than the buildings behind them. Not one sat at a single story, with some reaching as high as five, their roofs seemingly built to rip open the sky.

Many of them were still open, the patios of restaurants and cafes filled with guests. Even the houses on the street seemed lively, the glow of lamps and fireplaces alive in each window, the sounds of talk and jokes drifting out of each. In fact, every single window, regardless of the level, seemed open to the night air, citizens leaning and talking from them as usual. Not all were occupied however, and many seemed opened to the night, regardless of the danger that that could pose.

But perhaps more startling was the sheer number of people that filled the street at such an hour, acting as though the sun had yet to set. While the crowds that filled the sidewalks weren’t as thick as the ones from earlier, they still filled the air with lighthearted talk, a gentle murmur in stark contrast to the cacophony that deafened Serena just hours before. There was no urgency among those who wandered, many who seemed to be simply enjoying the night life. As though their cares and concerns had disappeared with the sun.

Lamp posts flickered softly, shadows dancing off guards who seemed to stand on each corner, leaned against spears, looking bored. Across the street, in a pattern that Serena couldn’t quite see, hung small lanterns, each giving off a softer glow than the streetlamps, but still providing just enough for the cobblestone road, not a crack in sight, to be illuminated underneath.

The occasional wagon and carriage rolled down the road, the clacking of the wheels on cobblestone echoing through the night, mixing with the gentle hum of conversation; anyone on the road quickly and quietly moved out of the way from passing wagons, with not a sound made from the driver.

Not a soul out tonight didn’t look content with life. 

“Castle Ward.” Werond said, waving a hand around. “Bit nicer than Southern Ward, don’t you think?”

Serena couldn’t find the words to respond. 

As they continued down the sidewalk, Werond pointed down a narrow street that cut through the buildings. “The ward is set up almost in a grid. Six streets up and down and three streets that go fully across. That one,” she pointed her thumb over her shoulder at the curve behind them. “is the High Road, lot of nice businesses and shops down there. Through that one,” she gestured at another, narrowing street that was coming up. “is a bunch of houses, I think. Don’t go down that one too often. It’s mostly houses in the middle, with businesses and other things on the side. And it’s basically the same for the rest of the streets.”

“ _And you live here?!”_ Serena signed in wonder. Werond nodded.

“For a couple of years now.” 

“ _Is it expensive? It looks like it.”_

“Well…in a way. But we won’t get into that.”

“ _Why not?”_

“It doesn’t matter.” Werond said; she pointed down the road before Serena could ask. “There’s my place! Gods I’ve missed it, haven’t slept in a decent bed in ages!”

Serena craned her head to see where Werond was pointing; it wasn’t until they’d walked further did she spot Werond’s home.

Standing at a modest two stories, the tan walls of Werond’s house stood out just enough against the beige homes around it. As they drew closer, Serena realized that the home looked as though it was built with giant pale sandstone bricks, in complete defiance to the typical wood and grey stone around it. The roof of the home was flatter, crafted out of what looked like brick shingles, a stark contrast to the pointer roofs that most buildings had. Near the back, on the left side of the home, a tall chimney poked out the top of the roof, a gentle curl of smoke drifting from it. The windows that dotted the walls were all dark, save one, which held the gentle glow of candlelight against the curtains.

Serena stared; it looked nicer than anything a professional teamster could ever hope to afford.

A short wall, taller than Serena, was erected around the perimeter, offering some privacy from the streets, but blocking the view of most of the home. As they finally approached, Werond released Serena’s arm and stepped towards the iron gate built into the wall, the symbol of the city etched onto its face.

“Is this your house?” Pavel asked, as he, Cruck’aa, and Jo caught up and stood behind Serena, much to the irritation of a passing group of elves. Serena glanced back and was relieved to see that she wasn’t the only one surprised by Werond’s house.

“Yes, probably different than what you were expecting.” Werond leaned Serena’s staff against the wall; she reached down, tugged off her boot, and stuck her hand into it. After some rummaging, she extracted a dull iron key, and slipped her boot back on.

“H-how long has that been in there?” Jo asked.

“The entire trip. Can’t be too careful.” Werond slotted the key and swung the gate open. She grabbed the staff and used it to gesture towards the front door of the house, now visible, its massive wooden frame looking more expensive than the house itself. “After all of you.”

“How can you afford this house?!” Cruck’aa balked, attracting the stares of those around him. 

“Uh…not really any of your business, I should say.” Werond stared as the group refused to move, the traffic of Waterdeep flowing around them. “Are…are you all coming?”

Pavel went first, grabbing Cruck’aa by his arm and dragging him towards the gate. Jo followed, gazing at the second story, giving them a wide berth as Cruck’aa began to struggle.

Serena stepped forward but stopped at the gate.

“ _This…looks like a really expensive house.”_ Serena signed.

“It is. I inherited it, lucky me. I make just enough to cover all the expenses.”

“ _You inherited it?”_

Werond smiled a sweet smile and laid her hand on Serena’s shoulder.

“I’ll fill you in later, I promise. Let’s just relax for tonight, okay?”

Serena nodded, and moved past her through the gate; it clanged loudly as Werond stepped through and closed it behind them, locking it again.

She didn’t know why Werond didn’t want to discuss the house. Maybe it was just fatigue from the day.

Serena grimaced. It wasn’t their business how she lived in Waterdeep, a place that Serena had never been before. It didn’t matter how Werond lived.

It shouldn’t matter. 

Pavel, Jo, and Cruck’aa had stopped again, this time stuck gawking at the courtyard. Dark tile had been laid down, a change from the cobblestone road, and not a speck of dust or dirt could be seen on them. To the right of the front door, the house jutted forward, the largest room of the house larger than some of the patios she’d seen on the way over. Glass doors, curtains drawn shut, stood from ground to ceiling on the wall facing the street; in front of them, a small table sat with two chairs, neatly pushed in. A dark red umbrella poked out of the middle, and from its size, Serena knew it could shade the entire patio had it been open.

To the left of the door, the smallest of gardens poked out of tile planters. Succulents and bushes that Serena had never seen before stuck out of them, enough to make one feel as though they were in a forest. A single chair sat in the middle of them all, a tiny table next to it, so that one may sit among the plants and pretend they _were_ actually in a forest, and not in the middle of Waterdeep.

“When the weathers nice, I use the patio all the time,” Werond said, gently pushing Serena through the other three and towards the door. “but it’s Waterdeep. It’s almost always cold here. Damn city.”

Before any of them could respond, the door to the house flung open. 

An older looking man stood in the doorway; his white tunic was cinched tight by a thin belt, matching with his black pants, tucked into a pair of heavy work boots. The hair around his head had thinned, and the wrinkles in his kind face displayed a wisdom that Serena was not privy to just yet.

The man bowed deeply.

“Ms. Torohar, a pleasure to see you again.” he said in a rich voice; Serena’s mouth hung open at the sight, and behind her, Pavel muttered in surprise. “I had not received a letter from you in quite some time. I was beginning to worry.”

“Yes, my apologies Graham.” Werond said, giving her own bow. “We had an incident at the city I meant to send a letter in, it completely slipped my mind. I’ll make up for it, sorry to worry you.”

“No, no, no need to apologize ma’am, I understand.” Graham’s blue eyes swept the befuddled group. “Will we be having guests tonight?”

Werond rolled her head. “Oh gods, yes, sorry Graham. They’ll be staying with us for a while. I really hate to ask –”

“I shall prepare the guest rooms at once. Some of the night markets should still be open, I’ll swing by and pick-up breakfast for tomorrow. We’re rather low on eggs, I daresay.” Graham smiled and shook his head. “No words please, always happy to help.”

He turned on his heel and walked back into the house, making sure the door stayed open as he did.

Werond gestured towards it. “After all you.”

“ _W-Werond,”_ Serena said, as Pavel and Jo filed past her, their eyes wide; Cruck’aa followed after a moment of grumbling. “ _who was that? Do you have a servant?”_

Werond stared at Serena; her amber eyes went wide after a moment.

“Oh gods, yeah! I do, sorry, should have said. I’m so used to him by –”

“ _You live in a big house by yourself, and you have a servant?!”_ Serena said. “ _Are you rich?! I didn’t think –”_

Werond thrust Serena’s staff into her hands, forcing her to grab it, cutting off her signs. 

“First rule of the Castle Ward, don’t ask people about their finances.” She said with a wink. “Now, let’s go before they make a mess without us.” Werond released the staff, turned Serena around by her shoulder, and gently pushed her towards the door.

Serena allowed herself to be guided, too distracted to protest. Werond was keeping something from them, that she knew; the job she described what felt like a year ago didn’t sound like one to support such a lavish house, _or_ personal servant. But maybe she was wrong, perhaps it was different in the city. 

Those thoughts flew from her mind as she smacked into Jo, all three of them once again stopped.

The front door opened to a warmly lit hallway, illuminated by two lamps bolted to either side of the door. The sound of their boots on the hardwood echoed through the hallway, bouncing off the softwood walls, and into the open living room just some steps ahead. To the right, a stone bench was pressed against the wall, with four hooks and a set of cabinets bolted above it. To the left, a wide set of stairs went up to the second story, dark wood railing adorned with small, magically lit lamps illuminating the way up. A dark green rug covered the steps, the pattern stitched across it not unlike the ones found in the back of Larion’s wagon.

No one moved forward, everyone gawking at the sight; Werond could barely shut the door behind them as she squeezed in.

“Gods people,” she said. “you all act like you’ve never seen a house before.”

“Uh…I didn’t expect it to be this nice.” Jo said, glancing around. “No offense, but I didn’t think teamsters were paid this well.”

“We aren’t.” Werond said flatly. “There’s more to it than just the foyer though. Graham, would you show them around?”

From the archway at the end of the hallway, Graham bowed.

“Of course, ma’am. This way if you will.” He gestured towards the group of them as they filed into the next room.

Serena leaned her staff against the wall, and turned towards Werond, hands raised, questions on her fingers; Werond grabbed her shoulders, flipped her around, and began pushing her after everyone.

“We can talk in a moment, follow Graham. I haven’t had guests in a long time!”

Frustration bubbled in Serena’s chest, but she shoved it away. Maybe she was being too nosey.

The living room proved to be just as nice as the hallway; a thick red carpet was spread out over the hardwood, not unlike the one on the stairs. Two large leather couches flanked either side of a coffee table, carved and polished from a single piece of black rock, with the back of a smaller love seat facing them. At the front of the room, two large windows looked out over a small patio hidden from the outside, and shoved against the left wall, a large, red bricked fireplace kept a comfortable temperature throughout the room.

A chandelier, one made of three floating lights encased by three bands of wood, barely illuminated the room. Graham walked towards the love seat and turned around; he clapped his hands, and the chandelier’s light brightened, casting a warmer glow throughout the room.

“This, honored guests, is the living room.” Graham said, grinning at their surprised looks. “A very lovely room, one that the mistress of the house never uses, on account of never having guests over until now.”

“Graham!” Werond said, as Serena and Pavel burst out laughing.

“Ah, my apologizes ma’am. Regardless, I daresay that this is one of the more comfortable rooms, and one filled with endless amounts of entertainment.” He gestured towards the back corner of the room; hidden from view, Serena craned her head and was surprised to notice a small collection of books, lined in neat rows in a bookshelf that went to the ceiling. “So long as you’re entertained by literature. None of which has been read by the Mis–”

“Graham!” Werond cut him off.

“Ah, of course. _All_ of them have been read by Miss Werond. And to the right, we have the kitchen and main dining room, were I suspect we’ll see each other the most. Coincidently, this is the mistress’s favorite room.”

Graham gestured to archway to the right of the living room, as Jo, Pavel, and Cruck’aa followed him in. 

Serena turned towards Werond again, this time uninterrupted; in the dim light, Serena almost missed the blush that had creeped into Werond’s face.

“I swear,” she said, fighting to keep a straight face. “I come back for not even ten minutes, and he’s back to his usual self. I don’t know why I pay him.”

“ _I like him!”_ Serena signed.

“Of course, you do darling, he’s not talking about you.” Werond sighed. “Well, can’t say I didn’t miss it. Come on, you’ll probably like the kitchen.”

The remaining tour of Werond’s house turned out exciting, if predictable. Every inch of the place displayed a living far above the paygrade of a teamster. Serena had trouble shoving the questions out of her mind as Graham showed off the upper floor of the house, laid out exclusively for the bedrooms. Every bit of furniture and decoration seemed more expensive than the last, and Serena couldn’t fathom where Werond had gotten the money. 

Only three bedrooms were laid out however, three free beds among them, excluding Werond’s room, each one furnished with beds and couches and desks that Serena had never seen before. And as Pavel and Jo fought with one another on who would be forced to share a room with Cruck’aa, Werond had leaned into Serena’s ear, and whispered that she’d still planned on them sleeping together.

Her blushed refused to leave.

Now, they waited, Jo leaning against the front door in the foyer, the rest of them standing around her; Werond had refused to go back out in public with her clothes that she’d been wearing the entire trip and insisted that they wait for her to throw on something ‘better’.

Graham had taken off the moment they’d felt comfortable. He’d only boughten food for himself while he watched the house for Werond, and as soon as they were settled, he’d sped off towards the night markets. Cruck’aa was the most displeased by the news, as he wanted nothing more than to sit down, eat, and turn in for the night. It had taken everyone, Werond included, to convince him to accompany them to the tavern.

“How long do we plan on staying here, by the way.” Jo asked, tapping her palms against the door. “I mean in Waterdeep, if we’re still worried about the cult.”

“Oh, I am still worried.” Pavel said. “I just…I’m not sure what to do. I realized when we were at Woodbridge today, we never remembered to have Larion tell us where the hole outside the walls is.”

“Nice one.” Cruck’aa grumbled.

“ _Well, Larion wasn’t going to tell us either, so it’s his fault too.”_ Serena signed.

“Yes, and it’s all of our faults for completely forgetting. We should have asked the moment he mentioned it.”

“Hindsight.” Pavel rubbed his face. “First thing we should do is to find that hole in the wall. Shouldn’t be too hard to work backwards from it.”

“Didn’t you mention that the Thieves Guild operates out of it?” Jo asked.

“I did. Hell, that can be the next step, find them and figure out what we can.” Pavel sighed. “Gods, there’s so many things to do, I’m kind of stuck on it all.”

“ _Just sleep on it then.”_ Serena signed. “ _We can figure it out in the morning. Not like they just started using it.”_

“Sure, sure.”

A door opened upstairs, and footsteps began to clack from above. Serena glanced behind herself as they reached the stairs, then turned around completely as Werond descended towards them.

She wore a blue, deep V neck tunic, shoulders cut off, tucked into a pair of black, high waisted dress pants, accented by a pair of dark boots with a thick heel. The clothing was a tighter fit than the usual loose articles that Werond had worn, and the sight of her in the warm, flicking lamp light sent a wave of dizziness through Serena.

Her long, dark hair was combed behind her ears, sticking out just a bit; as Werond stepped off the last step and towards Serena, her thick eyelashes and thin layer of dark around her eyes became apparent.

“Well?” Werond asked, pulling a loose strand of hair back behind her ears. “How do I look? Haven’t played with this stuff in forever.”

“ _Uhm, I, you…”_ Serena stammered, fingers fumbling. Werond laughed.

“Speechless, I’ll take it!”

“You look nice Werond,” Jo said. “but to be fair, Serena’s probably never seen eyeshadow before.”

“ _Eye – that stuff around your eyes?!”_ Serena asked.

“Oh darling,” Werond giggled, fluttering her eyelashes. “We’ll have fun dressing you up. Anyways, thanks for waiting.”

“Yup.” Pavel said. “Where are we going again?”

“Nice little place, called the Yawning Portal _._ Take a left as soon as you exit the door.”

Jo turned the handle and slid off the door as it opened to the night, a wave of cold air blowing into the house. Pavel was at her heel, with Cruck’aa behind him, leaving after a moment of glaring at Werond.

“Looks a little cold out.” Werond said, stepping next to Serena. “We’d better walk together, just to be safe.”

Before Serena could argue, Werond slipped her arm through hers again, and pulled her through the door, shutting and locking it behind them. They quickly followed the other three, as they stepped through the front gate.

The lampposts that dotted the streets had brightened, casting a brighter glow about the city; despite the hour, there were still many people that walked the streets.

“ _Uh, I can, uhm,”_ Serena stammered. “ _make a little flame, keep us –”_

“You really can’t take a hint, huh?” Werond said with a grin.

“ _What?”_

“Nothing. But now that we have a moment,” Werond nodded to Pavel setting the pace for Jo and Cruck’aa. “wanted to say…I know we’re going to relax and have fun, but don’t get too drunk. I need you sober for later.”

“ _Uhm, why?”_

“Well, if I told you, that’d ruin all the fun, right?” Werond sped up, pulling Serena along, her boots clacking against the sidewalk. “Now, hurry up, they’re going to get lost if we don’t lead them.”

Serena nodded as she kept pace, shoving more questions out of her mind.

After some time, though how long, Serena couldn’t tell, they arrived at Werond’s favorite place.

The tavern itself looked nothing as exciting as the Lady Luck did, back in Daggerford; a giant brick of a building, cobbled together from grey stone, was plopped between two other, more interesting looking buildings. At only three stories tall, the tavern’s dull wooden roof looked as though it weathered a thousand seasons, and dirty windows offered no glimpse of anything that might have been inside. A wooden door, hastily shoved into the brick, sat off center and above it, swinging lazily in the breeze, hung an iron plague with the words THE YAWNING PORTAL etched across it.

Despite her best efforts, Serena couldn’t help but deflate a little.

Werond glanced at her, then smiled.

“What, sad already?” She asked. “You haven’t seen the inside yet.”

“ _Oh, I know, and I’m sure it’s lovely. I just…didn’t think –”_

“This place looks awful!” Cruck’aa squawked; he drew stares from bystanders as he turned around. “Werond, this place better be good. I probably could have eaten better out of the gutter.”

Pavel smacked the Aarakocra upside the head.

“I’m really not in the mood, I’m sure it’s fine Cruck’aa.”

“Did you – ?!” Cruck’aa began.

“I did. Now,” Pavel gestured towards the door as Jo flung it open. “get into the damn pub, I’m hungry.”

Cruck’aa grumbled and rubbed his head, but followed Jo as she walked in, Pavel soon after.

“Isn’t he just a bundle of joy?” Werond sighed. “Oh well, doesn’t matter, come on.”

“ _Yeah, I’m sure this place is lovely!”_ Serena signed, as they walked over. “ _Don’t listen to him.”_

“I try not to darling.”

Serena raised her hands, still looking at Werond, who shook her head, and gestured forwards as they walked through the door.

Instantly, Serena’s eyes snapped to the massive open well in the center of the tavern; made of stone, it stood half as tall as she did, and wide enough to fit an entire wagon through it. Pale light flickered from deep within, washing the patrons around the well in a white glow, clashing wildly with the otherwise warm candlelight that illuminated the tavern.

As Serena stepped further in, she realized how deceiving the outside had been. Just as large as the Lady Luck, the Yawning Portal was packed with large circle tables, laid out on the stone floor in a half circle, all facing the well. Each table was crammed to capacity, each person, be they human, elf, dwarf, Tiefling, or half-orc, armed to the teeth in arms and armor, swords and shields, staves and bows. Every one of them tore into the towering plates of food on their tables, plates stacked high with cooked meats, steamed vegetables, and everything in between, including massive tankards of beer and ale that dominated each table. Serving maids, dressed in low cut tunics and dirty aprons, went around dodging groping hands, as they delivered food and drink alike.

Shoved against the walls lay a plethora of private booths, all occupied, and directly across from where they stood in the doorway, a massive stone orc head, mouth open as though it was screaming, sat with a roaring fire in its throat. The flames burned brightly yet the tavern remained comfortably warm, though the smell of sweat still clung to the air.

“Werond!” A voice from the bar, tucked into the farthest corner of the room, somehow shouted over the din. “Werond!”

Serena poked her head around Pavel and Jo, both standing and staring, Cruck’aa hiding behind them; a tall man at the bar, white tunic and leather vest somehow looking pristine, matched only by his handlebar mustache, waved over the forms of hunched patrons.

“Durnan!” Werond yelled from behind her; she grabbed Serena and Cruck’aa and pushed them through Jo and Pavel. “Go to the bar! We’ll get a table in a second!”

Cruck’aa turned and glared but followed them as they wove their way through the crowds; as they did, Serena glanced up and almost stopped in her tracks.

Hidden from view by the door, the tavern extended up the remaining three stories; the top two floors were built with a giant hole that looked directly down the well, allowing those closest to the balconies to peer into its depths, or at the merriment below. Many patrons already leaned against the railing, yelling, and jeering at one another from across, down below, and up above them, the cacophony of their voices sounding like earlier that day. Occasionally, a mug would slip from a fist, and go hurdling down into the well.

“Oh, you brought friends!” Durnan said as they reached the bar; a large wooden circle hung on the ceiling over him, a legion of candles illuminating Durnan in a warm glow, reflecting off his balding head. “Well, welcome to the Yawning Portal!” he bellowed; the patrons at the bar all cheered and smashed their tankards against the hardwood countertop. “Haven’t seen you folks around here before! And it’s not every day Werond brings friends over here!”

“Durnan!” Werond yelled, as laughter erupted from the bar.

“Right, right, sorry! You’re looking nice too, by the way! Now,” he clapped his hands. “You all looking for a place to sit down? Table or bar?”

“Table!” Cruck’aa spat before anyone could speak.

“Right, table for the birdman!” Durnan turned towards the crowds behind them; he leaned forward and gripped the edge of the bar, muscles rippling in his arms. “Oi!” He shouted; the storm of conversation died down slightly, as almost the entire tavern turned towards him. “I need a table for an honored guest! First to get the _fuck_ out eats free tomorrow!”

The scraping of chairs against stone echoed throughout the tavern as a legion of tables fought to stand up first. Durnan yelled and pointed towards a group nearest to the front door.

“I saw you first!” He bellowed over the renewed shouting. “Verena and Autumn’s table gets it! You come in tomorrow and dinners on the house!”

Durnan turned back to them and grinned.

“Best damn policy I’ve ever made. Give the ladies a moment to wipe it all down, shouldn’t take more than a second. Eating or drinking tonight?”

“Both. And I’ll be footing the tab.” Werond replied.

“Works for me!” Durnan pointed towards the now empty table. “Well, have a seat and I’ll be over in a moment!”

“Werond, you know we can pay for ourselves, right?” Jo said, as they turned around and wove their way back through the crowds. “You don’t need to pay for it all.”

“Yeah,” Pavel followed up. “This place looks pricy any –”

“I have a discount, a real one, don’t worry.” Werond waved a hand. “And consider this a thank you for getting me back to Waterdeep. Seriously, don’t mention it.”

Somehow, the serving maids had cleared the table in a flash, not a trace of the former patron’s food or drink left behind. Werond pulled out the chair nearest to her and gestured for Serena to sit, as everyone else filed around the table.

“ _Thanks!”_ Serena signed as Werond pushed her in. “ _What’s the food here like? Is it good?”_

“Well, I wouldn’t be taking you all here if it wasn’t!” Werond said, sliding into a chair next to her. “Gods, I just realized how easy it is for you to talk in these places, you sound completely fine in my head.”

“ _It comes with downsides though. Hold my hands and I can’t speak.”_

“True.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t find a way around that,” Cruck’aa said beside her. “what, with all that teaching you had.”

Serena scowled; as she raised her hands to respond, Durnan came swaggering over, five mugs of ale held in one hand.

“Alright, first rounds on us!” He shouted, slamming a tankard in front of everyone.

“Huh?” Werond looked at him, bewildered. “I never get drinks on the house, not after last time. You miss me that much Durnan?”

“Oh no, quite the opposite in fact.” He chuckled. Durnan’s face grew serious, and he leaned in. “Actually, and I apologize if this brings up old wounds, but news travels fast in Waterdeep. Heard about your caravan coming in, and all that happened to it. I can’t begin to imagine how all you are feeling after all that, so I won’t. The least I can do is give you an endless tap tonight, for bringing one of my favorite patrons back. Drink to everyone on that caravan for me. I’ll do the same after I get off work.”

Pavel’s eyes grew hard and he lowered his head and stared into his mug. Beside him, Jo did the same. Her chest tight, Serena quickly followed suit; truth be told, she hadn’t given it much thought since arriving in the city that day, and part of her felt guilty for only just remembering. Werond laid a hand on her shoulder, offering a sympathetic look, as she too looked down. Durnan followed suit, as a small bubble of silence descended on their table.

Cruck’aa turned away from it all.

After a moment, Pavel grabbed his mug and drained half of it in one giant gulp, before slamming it back down on the table, startling everyone.

“Right!” He bellowed. “No more feeling sorry for ourselves! Back in my old regiment, whenever we made it out of something, the sergeants held a feast for those who died! I say we do the same!” He turned to Durnan. “What do you got to eat in a place like this?”

“Oi, that’s the spirit!” Durnan yanked a pad of parchment out from one of his pant pockets and pulled a pencil from behind his ear. “Name something off, we probably have it!”

“Roast pig!” Pavel shouted. “Make sure it has an apple stuffed in its mouth!”

Durnan nodded and scribbled on the parchment.

“Cooked bell peppers.” Werond said.

Durnan nodded and scribbled on the parchment.

“The apple in the pigs mouth.” Cruck’aa said flatly.

“Grilled or regular?” Durnan asked.

“Regular.”

Durnan nodded and scribbled on the parchment.

“ _Half a sheep leg?”_ Serena signed.

Durnan eyed her a moment, before he nodded, and scribbled on the parchment.

“Mashed potatoes!” Jo exclaimed.

Pavel shot a look at her as Durnan nodded and scribbled on the parchment.

“Alright!” he said. “Lot on here, let me get the cooks all fired up and get this out for all you. And if you need anything else, hop back over to the bar, I’ll take care of it myself!”

Durnan nodded once more, before turning on his heel, and marching back to the bar, cutting through the crowds with ease.

“Half a sheep leg?” Werond asked, shooting a puzzled look at Serena. She shifted in her seat.

“ _Ned always cooked that for special occasions.”_ She mumbled.

“Oh, that’s fine. I just didn’t expect you to be a sheep girl.”

“ _Well, it tastes good!”_

“Hey Werond,” Jo said, leaning onto the table. “you come here a lot? Must have done something for the owner to call you his favorite patron.”

“How’d you know he’s the owner?” Werond asked.

“Oh, come on, a man that walks like that? He owns the place.”

“One way to put it. I just come here a lot, that’s all. And uh…as you probably heard from Graham and Durnan, I don’t have a lot of friends I can bring with me.”

“ _See, and that’s weird,”_ Serena signed. “ _because you’re so outgoing and nice! I’m sure they’re just joking, right?”_

Werond laughed and picked her mug up. “Oh, don’t I wish, darling.”

“You know what else we need? A good story! I don’t think I’ve ever told you all about the pig story from my old outfit, have I?” Pavel said, leaning forward on the table. “Because it’s pretty good!”

“Oh gods, Pavel,” Cruck’aa said, rolling his eyes. “no one wants to hear –”

“I want to.” Jo and Werond said together. Serena nodded in agreement.

Cruck’aa grumbled and leaned back in his chair.

Just as Pavel began to launch into his story, Serena picked up her mug and raised it for a sip. As she did, Werond reached out and laid a hand on her arm, stopping her.

“Just a reminder,” she said, leaning in. “don’t get too drunk please. I want you sober.”

Serena’s heart fluttered.

“ _Why?”_ she signed with one hand.

“You’ll see.” Werond replied with a wink.


	32. Eggs and Worry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I mentioned it last chapter, but what I thought was going to be chapter 30 ended up being HUGE. Like, almost 30 pages, close to 10k words. Now, I'm sure that would have been fine, but I needed to break it up so I wasn't proofreading a bunch of stuff all at once. Now, maybe that did make me miss some details. I think I messed up my description of Werond's house and didn't explain how everyone managed to see inside the courtyard...because it was night. Honestly, forget about that one.   
> Overall though, I just wanted to get this stuff out. Next chapter will finally make usage of the tags I slapped on this thing back in July of last year...so if you've been waiting for that, you'll REALLY enjoy next chapter.   
> Assuming I wrote it correctly. I did my research, tried to make it halfway decent. Hopefully it doesn't land me on r/menwritingwomen!

The day had been especially auspicious for Graham; not only had the mistress of the house returned safely, but she’d also brought along guests that she seemed to be getting along with. Graham couldn’t remember the last time Ms. Torohar had looked so happy.

But perhaps best of all, he’d gotten a fantastic deal on eggs just now.

Graham walked down the sidewalk, the light of streetlamps cutting away the darkness of night; he whistled a quiet tune as the last of the night markets closed around him, small groups of workers stowing their remaining stock back into their stores.

He’d been lucky to hit them as late as he did, half expecting to find many of the stalls out of stock for the night. The last stall on the sidewalk, however, had just replenished, thought they didn’t expect any customers this late. After a bit of haggling, his coin purse was lighter, and Graham had everything he needed to cook a proper breakfast for the mistress’s company tomorrow morning. All he had to do was wait for the delivery, which should arrive before any of them would awake. 

Graham smiled as he waved to a pair of stall owners.

Today truly had been a great one, food business aside. He was elated that Ms. Torohar had finally arrived home, and with so many new friends to boot. He couldn’t remember the last time she had company over, let alone company who would be sharing the house. Perhaps that subtle gloom that hung over her, late at night, would finally dispel itself. Perhaps she’d find more time to enjoy herself, rather than attend to the endless stack of papers on her desk. 

It would be a welcome change of pace. 

As he passed by another stall, waving at the owners, a movement caught his eye.

A tall man stepped out from an alleyway, shadows melting from him as he stepped into the light. The owners that Graham waved at immediately turned, and retreated into their store, shutting the door quietly behind them.

Every ounce of cheer burned away within him, as Graham recognized the wide-brimmed, purple hat, black eyepatch, and dark skin of a Drow.

The Drow immediately fell in line with Graham, as they continued down the sidewalk.

“Hello Graham.” He said in a deep voice. “Haven’t spoken to you in quite some time. How’s everything?”

“Fine.” Graham said, refusing to look at the Drow; he glanced across the street, hoping to catch the eye of a City Watch, but could find none.

In fact, the street seemed empty. 

The Drow let out a _tsk._

“Angry already? And I’ve barely said twenty-one words yet.”

“You just did.”

“Ah, if you say so.”

Anger rose in his chest; Graham stopped and whirled on the Drow, who stepped back, his visible eye wide, lips pulled into an amused smile, one not unlike a cat toying with an already dead mouse.

“What the hell do you want?!” Graham spat. “My evening was going just fine before you showed up!”

“Oh my, someone’s angry.”

“What the fuck –”

“Now Graham,” the Drow said; he lowered his head and eyed him under the brim of his purple hat. “don’t get pissy with me now. Wouldn’t want a repeat of last time, would we?”

An itch, deep within his skin, flared in his lower back. He shoved the feeling aside and sucked in a deep breath.

“Fine. Sorry. What do you want?”

“Oh, I just happened to be in the area. Stopped by your house a while ago,” Dread settled in Graham’s chest. “but no one was home. Werond _did_ come back tonight…did she not?”

Graham stared at the Drow.

“I asked a question –”

“Yes, she did.”

“See, wasn’t that easy to answer? I’ll have to come back another time then. But that doesn’t explain why you ordered so much food just now. She have company?”

“How long were you –”

“ _Graham_.” The Drow said, voice firm.

“Yes.”

“Oh joy.” The Drow said. “Well, I can’t wait to meet them.”

“We’d all prefer if you didn’t.”

“Ah, Werond would say something similar.”

The Drow tipped his hat and grinned, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth.

“Well then, I must be off. Business calls. Perhaps I’ll stop by soon, chat up Werond a little. Thank you, Graham. Helpful as always.”

The Drow turned on his heel and began sauntering back up the road, whistling the same tune that Graham had been whistling just moments before.

Graham watched the Drow until he rounded the corner in the road and disappeared.

In a now deserted street, he looked up at the moon, and swore at every god he knew


	33. Long Time Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, when I published this back in July of last year, I told my friends, "No, I'm not writing this scene, I refuse to do it". And I broke that promise.  
> On some level, this was an interesting challenge; trying to write this all without coming off super descriptive and overbearing was a huge challenge, also considering I've never written something like this before. The last times I did, I was pretty heavy handed, but I tried to be more subtle with everything. Maybe it's cringe, I don't know. But that's the point of fanfiction, right? Push the envelope and do things you haven't done before?  
> God, I hope so. Otherwise I look like an idiot. 
> 
> Criticism welcome for this one!

“’nd thn I shad, ‘Bt Mercusheo, thosh don exisht!”,” Pavel slammed his empty mug between four others. “nd ‘e look at me lik I wash crazhy!”

Serena stared at Pavel, unable to understand a word of his slurred speech. Next to her, Werond had stuffed a fist into her mouth, struggling to keep back her laughter.

Cruck’aa had shoved his chair as far as he could from Pavel’s drunken antics, while Jo had scooted hers closer, nodding along to his stories.

Empty plates were stacked high on the table, their meal finished some time ago; Pavel had devoured most of the pig himself, with everyone else carving off small portions to go along with their main dishes. Cruck’aa refused to touch anything save the vegetables, which Durnan was more than happy to bring out for him.

By the time they’d finished off everything, Pavel had cleaned out five mugs of ale, becoming one of the drunkest people in the tavern. His words became more slurred with each story, one right after the next, and by the end of the current one, Jo remained the only one who could comprehend what he was saying. 

Or at least, she claimed to.

Werond had already finished off her mug, face barely flushed, but Serena had only drunken half of hers. Every sip caused Werond to glance over, and occasionally she’d reach out and lay a hand on Serena’s arm, preventing her from taking another sip. By the time the meal had finished, aside from Cruck’aa, she was the only one who still had their original mug half full.

She leaned her head on one hand, only half listening to Pavel’s next story.

It wasn’t that she minded Werond limiting how much she drank. A controlling or patronizing feeling never came out of the actions, and if anything, Serena felt an appreciation for her interference; the ale in this place was damn good. Had Werond not been there, Serena knew she’d be unable to handle herself.

And yet, worry gnawed at her all the same.

Werond was up to something, the teasing all day today had tipped her off well enough. But why she wanted her sober was still beyond Serena. Each idea she rolled about in her head seemed more ridiculous than the last, and Werond gave no indication of anything to guess on either. She sat there, too close to Serena, her smooth face and dark skin aglow in the light. Every time Serena caught the glance that Werond gave her, a bit of heat would blossom in her chest, forcing her to turn away before Werond could see her blush.

Serena stared down at her mug with a frown.

Werond had probably forgotten about whatever it was that she mentioned doing yesterday. Afterall, the hour had grown late, evident by the bells that tolled eleven times just a moment ago, and if she’d plan to do anything…

Serena blinked. When had they arrived? She couldn’t remember.

“Ay, wy m mug ‘mpty?!” Pavel slurred, banging his mug. “’here tat Durdden pershon?”

“I don’t really think you need more Pavel.” Jo said, draining the last of her second mug. “You’re just a _tad_ bit drunk.”

“Shays ou!” Pavel wagged a finger in Jo’s face, his own face red as a beet. “I’m fin!”

“You’re gods damn wasted,” Cruck’aa spat. “and you look like an idiot.”

“Butter han wat ‘ou lok lik!”

Cruck’aa’s feathers ruffled as he straightened up, though his eyes were wide with confusion. Werond pushed her chair out and stood up.

“Gentlemen! I can get more, no worries. It’ll be,” she winked at Jo. “just as strong as the first mugs.”

“Yesh!” Pavel yelled.

“Here, why don’t I get us all some water too, I think we need it.” Werond looked at Serena, torch light reflecting from her amber eyes. “Want to help me? I don’t think I can carry five mugs back.”

Serena shoved her chair out and hopped up.

“ _Sure! Anything to stop listening to him for a bit.”_

“’ey!” Pavel shouted.

“No, no Pavel, she meant that as a good thing.” Jo said with a smirk.

“Ah! shory Sherene!”

Serena shook her head as Werond and Jo laughed, before Werond turned away from the table. 

She followed closed behind Werond, as she wove her way through the crowds; despite the late hour, the tavern was still packed to the brim, and Serena swore that it had gotten busier with each passing hour. By the time they arrived back at the bar, they had dodged no fewer than four mugs of ale that had been flung from slippery hands.

“ _Is it always like this?!”_ Serena signed, looking back at the crowds.

“Only when it’s late. So, uh…yes, all the time.” Werond said.

“Ladies!” Durnan said, as they approached. “Sorry I haven’t been checking on you, the patrons over here have been _quite_ the handful.” He leaned towards a City Watch guard, still in uniform, passed out on the bar. “Ain’t that right Steven?!” Durnan straightened up. “Fifth shift that he’s gotten drunk on. But I’m not a snitch, his coin is still good. So, what can I do for you two?”

Serena raised her hands to sign, but Werond stepped in front of her, blocking her view of Durnan.

“Actually, not really food related.” She said. “I hate to ask this Durnan, but I need to speak to my friend here about something, and all the private booths are full. Sorry, but is there…some place we could chat? It would only take…” her words trailed off as Durnan waved a hand.

“No worries Werond, and yes, you can hang out back there.” he leaned forward and pointed to the side; an archway, blocked off by a curtain, was cut into the wall beside the bar. “That’s where my office is. No one else goes back there, they know better. You can hang out in the hallway, but don’t go into my office please.”

“Of course, thank you so much Durnan.”

“Anything for my best patron!”

Werond turned around and grinned, ignoring Serena’s puzzled look. She gestured towards the curtain. “After you.”

“ _Uhm, what do we need to talk about? Did something –”_

Werond rolled her eyes; she stepped forward and slipped her arm through Serena’s.

“We can talk back there, come on.”

Before Serena could object, Werond tugged on her arm and lead her towards the curtain.

Her confusion grew as they wove their way around the bar; Serena couldn’t understand why Werond needed to talk with her alone. What could she have to say that couldn’t be said in front of everyone else? 

Serena’s eyes went wide.

Werond pulled back the curtain and pulled Serena through.

The sound from the packed tavern quieted the moment the curtain fell back into place, enough that Serena knew there had to be an enchantment on it. The hallway, made of the same stone brick as the building, went straight for some steps before turning left. A solitary candle burned on the corner of the wall, the only source of light. Werond pulled Serena around the corner and halted just beyond it in, light from the candle barely reaching around the corner; the hallway continued until it halted at a wooden door, two lamps shining bright on either side of it. 

Despite the dimness, Serena could still make out the blush that now crept into Werond’s face.

“You really can’t take a hint, huh?” Werond said, her voice low.

“ _You said that earlier.”_ Serena signed.

Werond grinned; it was warm, but there was something else behind it.

“I did. And it’s true.”

“ _R-right…so uh, did you need to talk about something?”_

“I do need to talk about something.”

They stared at one another.

“ _What is it?”_ Serena asked.

“I wanted to talk about us.” Werond said.

“ _W-what about us?”_

Werond frowned and cocked her head.

“I thought that would be obvious.”

“ _Why would…”_ Serena paused, her fingers twitching. “ _Did…you mean…us and, uhm, everything?”_

“Yup. Everything on the caravan, _and_ in Daggerford.”

“ _Ah.”_ Serena blinked; when had the hallway become unbearably warm? “ _Uhm…what about all…that?”_

“I want to keep going.”

Serena’s heart leapt into her throat.

“ _Oh…n-now when you s-say –”_

“You know,” Werond said. “I _love_ it when you get flustered.”

She took a step forward; instinctively, Serena stepped back, right into the wall. Despite the warmth of the hallway, her body began to shake as that nervous energy flooded through her. Painfully aware of how hot her ears had become, Serena pulled her hands to her chest, nervous smile upon her lips.

“ _W-wait, is this what you meant –”_

Werond stepped closer.

“ _W-Werond, tell me! O-on the wagon –”_

Werond placed a hand against the wall.

“ _H-hold on!”_ Serena squeaked, her arms tucked against her chest. “ _Y-you’re too close –”_

Werond leaned in, face just inches away, eyes gleaming, breath tickling.

“ _Werond!”_ Serena’s voice was barely a whisper. 

It was a soft kiss, sudden, sprung on her before she could think. Serena closed her eyes, her heart smashing against her chest; Werond pushed in, feeding off her nervousness, staying long enough for the hallway to start spinning. When she pulled back, Serena had to steady herself against the wall.

Werond smiled.

“Are you nervous?” She asked.

“ _Y-es!”_ Serena yelled. “ _You can’t just spring that o-on me, you didn’t ask!”_

“You’re right, sorry darling. This _is_ what I talked about on the wagon the other day though. I thought it’d be fun to get you all nervous like this but…” Werond grinned apologetically. “Maybe I went a little overboard. Here,” She grabbed Serena’s wrist before she could react. “if it helps, I’m nervous too.”

Werond placed Serena’s hand on her chest, letting her feel the thud-thud-thudding of her heart.

Serena sucked in a breath and yanked her hand away, her own heart pumping faster.

“ _Why are you nervous?!”_ She asked. “ _You’re not backed against a wall!”_

“Well, yes. But I did a little too much, and I feel bad about it. And I’m nervous for your response, because you’re right, I should have asked first. So…”

Werond leaned back, just slightly, gazing at Serena through thick eyelashes, eyes like the sunrise, heat flooding through her.

“May I kiss you, Serena Lash?”

The dizziness returned.

Serena stared into Werond’s eyes – her mind blanking, her body shaking, hallway spinning – unsure of what to do.

Werond leaned back and frowned.

“It’s okay to say no. I promise. Won’t do anything. I probably deserve a no anyways, from all that.”

Serena shook her head and steadied herself.

“ _N-no, I mean…”_

She could barely sign, so numb were her fingers. She sucked in another breath, forcing her body still as she leaned off the wall. 

“ _Werond, would…you please…keep going.”_

She cringed at her words, her body wanting to curl in on itself; Werond simply grinned, and leaned back in.

She kissed her harder, deeper, savoring every taste, savoring the moment. Her tongue swirled around hers as Werond grabbed Serena’s hips, pressing her back against the wall, sending her heart smashing against her chest. Serena closed her eyes and let Werond lead, unsure of what to do, unsure of the heat that poured from her body.

Werond placed a hand against Serena’s thudding heart as she released her; as she did, she pinched Serena’s lower lip in her teeth, pulling back just slightly.

She released her, laugh on her lips. Serena tried to follow, but Werond’s hand held her in place. 

“You taste bitter.” Werond said. “Or maybe that’s the booze.”

“ _Y-you didn’t have to stop.”_ Serena signed just under her chin, voice a whisper.

Werond smirked.

“Oh, but I did.” She pulled away slightly. “I…well, I’ve never put it into words. But I feel like I should tell you. First time for you and…everything.”

“ _I already know you like women.”_

Werond burst into a fit of giggles, waving away Serena’s joke.

“No, gods that was stupid.” Her grin remained as the laughter subsided, her voice falling into that familiar husky tone. “You’ve never been with anyone, and I don’t know what idea you have of what _this_ should look like. I’m a little bit…unconventional, I guess. I know what I want,” She tightened her grip on Serena’s hips. “I want you. I want to taste you again. I want to feel you squirm under me. I want to hold you tight and feel _every_ part of you. _I’ll_ lead…and you’ll follow. If you do that, we’ll both be the happiest women in Waterdeep. But you need to be okay with that. I’ll be gentle and slow, but I’ll make you feel loved. But only if you let me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Is that something you want to do?”

“ _I-I…”_ Serena stammered.

Everything Werond said sent goosebumps rippling across her, sent her heart beating faster in her chest. The heat within Serena became unbearable and staring into Werond’s eyes only made it worse. 

Serena raised her hands.

As she did, Werond reached forward, and brushed a strand of hair from Serena’s face, her warm fingers caressing her hot cheek.

It was too much.

Serena nodded, leaning her head against Werond’s hand.

Werond grinned and bit her lip.

“Turn around.” She whispered. 

Serena obeyed.

Werond wrapped her arms around her and pulled Serena in, her body a perfect fit against Werond’s. She was warm, her hands even warmer; they caressed every inch of her, tracing her curves, squeezing tight in places that made her gasp. 

Werond pressed her lips to Serena’s neck, kissing above and below her choker, her voice tickling.

“Gods,” she murmured, sending a shiver rippling through Serena. “I’ve been wanting to do this for _so_ long. Since the day we met. I don’t know why I waited.”

A hand traveled up and over the curves of Serena’s chest; a hand traveled down, dragging slowly across her stomach.

“Skinny from all that walking.” Werond said. “There’s so much I want to see, to feel…all of it perfect, every inch of you.”

Hands shaky, Serena began to sign. “ _N-no, I –”_

Werond’s hand shot up, grabbed Serena’s chin, and tilted her head to the side; Werond pressed her mouth against Serena’s ear, sending a jolt through her.

“ _No_ talking unless I say, _darling.”_ She breathed. “Understood?”

Serena’s legs almost gave out; she shoved herself against Werond to keep her balance and nodded.

“Good. Now, unbutton your shirt.”

Serena’s hands jumped to her tunic, and she began fumbling with the buttons, struggling to unclasp them as Werond remained against her ear. Her hand dropped from Serena’s chin just as she moved to the last button, and brushed Serena away as she fumbled with it. With ease, Werond unbuttoned and pulled Serena’s tunic open; despite the heat on her back, she shivered as the air washed over her skin.

Werond reached with both hands and pulled down the cloth that was stretched around Serena’s chest. She sucked in a deep breath, unable to tell if she shook from nervousness or anticipation.

With burning hands, Werond stroked Serena’s chest, her caresses and squeezes leaving Serena unable to stand still.

“You’ve been hiding these from me.” Werond said, mouth back against Serena’s neck, under the choker. “ _Such_ a tease. And they fit so perfectly.” She nipped her neck, sending Serena’s heart back into her throat. “Like they were made for me. Like _you_ were made for _me.”_

She pinched.

Serena jerked, a new sensation ripping through her, one she’d never felt before; she leaned her head back, mouth open in a gasp and Werond descended, thrusting her tongue in, kissing her deep.

Waves of dizziness swept through her as Werond refused to let go, a month of longing pouring from her hands and mouth; Serena pressed a hand against the wall and grabbed Werond’s waist with the other as she struggled to stand. 

Werond pulled her head back, leaving Serena gasping for air.

A hungry look filled her eyes.

“I didn’t say you could touch me.” She said with a grin. “But that’s okay. You’ll learn.”

Serena’s heart fluttered.

Werond’s lips returned to her neck; her hand dropped from Serena’s chest, and slide down. Serena sucked in another breath as Werond traced circles around her now exposed stomach. Slowly, agonizingly, she dipped her fingers under the tight waistband of Serena’s skirt, and pushed her hand up, loosening it slightly.

Serena’s trembling grew as Werond’s hand pushed under it.

“Nervous?” Werond whispered. Serena nodded. “Everyone is the first time. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle…promise.”

Her hand descended, lower. Her fingers shifted the fabric underneath, Serena’s breath came out shallow. Werond curled her fingers and –

Serena jerked from the touch and pressed herself harder against Werond.

“Wow,” she whispered. “you’re ready to go. That good, huh?”

Serena couldn’t respond even if she was allowed to; a wave of pleasure washed over her as Werond slowly began to move her fingers. Her breathing quickened and she grabbed Werond with her other hand.

Her body began to curl forward but Werond held her up, standing straight. She pressed her lips against Serena’s ear again, the tickle of her voice causing Serena’s mind to scramble.

“Put your hand back on the wall.” She whispered; Serena obeyed. “Good. Now, talk to me. Keep going?”

Serena’s hand curled on the stone, barely able to form her sign.

“ _Y-yes.”_

Werond nipped her neck and sped up; Serena gasped and jerked.

“I’ve been waiting for this, for _so_ long darling,” she breathed. “For you to squirm against me. Gods,” Werond sucked in a breath. “so long.”

Heat poured off Werond’s body, Serena’s back slick. Her hair clung to her face, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“More?” Werond asked.

“ _Y-yes.”_

Werond obliged.

Serena’s fingers gripped the stone as a moan filled Werond’s mind.

It was too much, the waves ripping through her tense body, her heart pounding, the heat on her back, the sweat dripping down, Werond’s lips against her skin, her fingers against her –

Nothing else mattered. 

“Are you close?” Werond breathed.

Serena nodded.

“Good.”

Werond sped up.

Serena jerked again. A silent moan escaped her lips, one hand spread against the stone, the other gripping Werond tight.

Werond held her pace and nuzzled against Serena’s neck. 

Her body wouldn’t stop shaking, jerking.

A different heat grew within her, boiling her body, sweat dripping from her head and chest.

Serena tried to lean forward, but Werond held her in place.

The heat grew, encompassing her. It grew, brighter, hotter – hotter – hotter – 

Werond held tight as Serena’s legs gave out, head leaned back, heart smashing through her chest, voice yelling in Werond’s head, waves of heat washing over her, frying her mind blank. Each wave, each pulse, each shudder, became Serena’s entire existence. 

She tried to sign for more, for Werond to go further, but all her signs had left her mind, leaving only a longing as Werond pulled her hand out.

Werond’s whispered to Serena, her smile pressed into her burning ear. 

Gradually, as her panting calmed, the flames within her began to cool, flickering out as the cool air washed over her slick skin.

And yet, though they died down, Serena could still feel her skin smolder, as the flames threatened to ignite anew, from even the smallest brush from Werond’s lips. 

Slowly, Serena’s mind began to cool as she regained her senses. She leaned her head forward and felt the hallway spin, as she planted her feet back into the ground.

“Whoa, not so fast.” Werond whispered, still clinging to her. “That was…pretty strong. You okay? You good? Make sure to breath.”

Serena nodded, and sucked in a gulp of air, steadying herself against Werond. After a moment, she released her, Werond’s hands hovering around Serena’s waist as she regained her balance.

Werond turned Serena around to face her, hands still hovering; as she did, Serena could make out the sweat stains from where she’d been pressed against Werond, her tunic now sticking to her, pressed tight against her body.

The blush in Werond’s face had deepened, and that hungry look in her eyes had yet to disappear. 

“Well, seems like you enjoyed that.” Werond said, wrapping her hands around Serena’s waist and pulling her in. “Do me a favor? Can you snap away all this?” She gestured to her chest and tunic; Serena snapped twice, once for her, and once for herself. “Thank you darling.”

Werond reached up and brushed her fingers against Serena’s face, sending a shiver through her.

“I don’t think I’m done though. That was a bit…too fun. Shall we –”

Heart back in her throat, Serena leaned in towards Werond’s lips; Werond’s hand slid down and planted itself against Serena’s bare chest, holding her back.

Frustration washed over her as Werond grinned. 

“Whoa, easy now.” She said. “No more here. We’ll never leave. Let’s…pick up at my place. I think you need to lay down a bit anyways. Sound fun?”

Without a sign, Serena turned to and tried to walk around the corner; Werond grabbed her back and laughed.

“Wow, you’re eager. Can’t leave like that though.” Werond began buttoning Serena’s tunic back up. “As much as I love the sight of you, we should…keep that just for me.” She tucked the tunic back into Serena’s long skirt and cinched it tight. “People will start staring, I’ll get jealous, and we can’t have that, can we?”

Serena stared into Werond’s eyes and wobbled forward.

Werond frowned.

“Hey, talk to me, you alright?” She asked, as she began to fix Serena’s hair.

“ _I-I, yeah.”_ Serena finally signed. “ _Can’t…really think…of signs.”_ She bit her lip. “ _I uhm…t-thank you.”_

Werond let out a _pfft._

“Thank you?” She giggled. “Oh darling, this really is new to you, huh?”

She nodded. Werond’s eyes softened.

“Well, it makes me happy that I made you happy. But the night’s still young, and…I think I can do a bit better than that.”

Werond placed her hand on the small of Serena’s back, and gently pushed her around the corner; as she did, she slipped her armor through Serena’s. “Now, shall we head back?”

Serena nodded.

Werond pulled her close, and as she did, Serena clung to her with her other hand. Werond smiled, brushed a strand of hair from out Serena’s face, and began pulling her towards the curtain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This 100% didn't happen in the game because we "cut to black" when it got close, but I like to imagine this is what happened.  
> Cruck'aa is going to be PISSED.  
> Also, probably not going to be doing more scenes like this, if only because they don't really serve anything else.


End file.
